I.
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park; And they each sang a song, ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong!
Before they went back in the dark. Mr. Poker he sate quite upright in the coach;
Mr. Tongs made a clatter and clash; Miss Shovel was dressed all in black (with a brooch);
Mrs. Broom was in blue (with a sash). Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! And they all sang a song.
II.
"O Shovely so lovely!" the Poker he sang,
"You have perfectly conquered my heart. Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song,
I will feed you with cold apple-tart. When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound,
You enrapture my life with delight, Your nose is so shiny, your head is so round,
And your shape is so slender and bright! Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! Ain't you pleased with my song?"
III.
"Alas! Mrs. Broom," sighed the Tongs in his song,
"Oh! is it because I'm so thin, And my legs are so long,—ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong!—
That you don't care about me a pin? Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room,
Ah! why don't you heed my complaint? Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom,
Because you are covered with paint? Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! You are certainly wrong."
IV.
Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
"What nonsense you're singing to-day!" Said the Shovel, "I'll certainly hit you a bang!"
Said the Broom, "And I'll sweep you away!" So the coachman drove homeward as fast as he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain; But they put on the kettle, and little by little
They all became happy again. Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! There's an end of my song.
