THE HOUSEWIFE'S LAMENT (AUSTRALIANA)

THE HOUSEWIFE'S LAMENT (AUSTRALIANA)

	One day I was walking,
	I heard a complaining,
	I saw a poor woman
	The picture of gloom.
	She gazed at the mud
	On her doorstep ('twas raining),
	And this was her song
	As she wielded her broom:

	Chorus:
	"O life is a toil,
	And love is a trouble,
	Beauty will fade
	And riches will flee,
	Wages will dwindle
	And prices will double
	And nothing is as I
	Would wish it to be."

	"There's too much of worriment
	Goes to a bonnet,
	There's too much of ironing
	Goes to a shirt.
	There's nothing that pays for
	The time you waste on it,
	There's nothing that lasts us
	But trouble and dirt.

	Chorus: 
	"In March it is mud,
	It's slush in December,
	The midsummer breezes
	Are loaded with dust.
	In fall the leaves litter,
	In muddy September
	The wallpaper rots
	And the candlesticks rust.

	Chorus: 
	"There are worms on the cherries
	And slugs on the roses,
	And ants in the sugar
	And mice in the pies.
	The rubbish of spiders
	No mortal supposes,
	And ravaging roaches
	And damaging flies.
	Chorus:

	"It's sweeping at six
	And i's dusting at seven,
	It's victuals at eight
	And it's dishes at nine.
	It's potting and panning
	From ten to eleven.
	We scarce break our fast
	Till we plan how to dine.

	Chorus:

	"With grease and with grime
	From corner to centre,
	Forever at war
	And forever alert.
	No rest for a day
	Lest the enemy enter,
	I spend my whole life
	In the struggle with dirt.

	Chorus: 
	"Last night in my dreams
	I was stationed forever,
	On a far distant rock
	In the midst of the sea.
	My one task of life
	Was a ceaseless endeavor,
	To brush off the waves
	As they swept over me.
	Chorus: 

	8. "Alas! 'Twas no dream -
	Ahead I behold it,
	I see I am helpless
	My fate to avert!"
	She lay down her broom,
	Her apron she folded.
	She lay down and died
	And was buried in dirt.
	Chorus: