It's “Tom, be still, put down that bag,
Why, Harriet, where's your feet!
Maria, standing on that stool!!
It wasn't made for use;
Be silent all: three greens, one red,
A blue, and then a puce!”
“Oh, Heaven preserve me from a wife
With “fancy-work” run wild;
And hands which never do aught else
For husband or for child: