I wish, how I wish, that I had a little house,
With a mat for the cat and a hole for a mouse,
And a clock going “tock” in a corner of the room
And a kettle, and a cupboard, and a big birch broom.
To school in the morning the children off would run,
And I’d give them a kiss and a penny and a bun.
But directly they had gone from this little house of mine,
I’d clasp my hands and snatch a cloth, and shine, shine, shine.
I’d shine all the knives, all the windows and the floors,
All the grates, all the plates, all the handles on the doors,
Every fork, every spoon, every lid, and every tin,
Till everything was shining like a new bright pin.
At night, by the fire, when the children were in bed,
I’d sit and I’d knit, with a cap upon my head,
And the kettles, and the saucepans they would shine, shine, shine,
In this tweeny little, cosy little house of mine!
