And charwomen come by the score;
The whitewashers troop in procession,
And spatter from ceiling to floor.
I own I must make a confession—
Spring Cleaning's a terrible bore!
They come in the morning at daybreak,
Just when I'm forgetting my cares,
And into my slumbers how they break!
With bustle and tramp on the stairs.
They laugh, and they whistle, and chatter;