Washing Day
Six years uv wedded life we've 'ad, an' still me dreams is sweet...
Aw, them bonzer little vi'lits, they wus smilin' round me feet.
An' wot's a bit uv stove-wood count, wiv paddicks grinnin' green,
When a bloke gits on to dreamin' uv the old days an' Doreen—
The days I thort I snared a saint; but since I've understood
I 'ave wed a dinkum woman, which is fifty times as good.
I 'ave wed a dinkum woman, an' she's give me eye to see.
Oh, I ain't been mollycoddled, an' there ain't no fluff on me!
But days when I wus down an' out she seemed so 'igh above;
An' a saint is made fer worship, but a woman's made for love.
An' a bloke is growin' richer as sich things 'e comes to know...
(She pegs another sheet an' sez, "The stove-wood's gittin' low.")
A bloke 'e learns a lot uv things in six years wiv a tart;
But thrushes in the sassafras ain't singin' like me 'eart.
