A WOMAN NEVER KNOWS WHEN HER DAY’S WORK’S DONE.

Now just attend to me,
Married men of all degree,
While I tell you the vicissitudes of life,
There’s nothing, understand,
Half so pleasing to a man,
AS a good temper’d, kind, and loving wife.
She is always at her work,
Tho’ sometimes used like a Turk;
Here and everywhere compelled she has to run;
While a man can banish care,
Drown sorrow and dull care,
A woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

Chorus.
Then just attend to me,
To your wives be kind and free,
And never mind the clatter of her tongue,
If you the truth will speak,
You know the live-long week,
A woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

That man must be a fool,
Who will strive his wife to rule,
Or drive her, like an elephant, about,
You will find ‘ere you begin,
You may knock nine devils in,
But never can you knock one devil out.
We nothing ought to hear,
But “my darling” and “my dear,”
And to please his wife a man should miles run,
Her all indulgence give,
Then happy will he live,
For a woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

Every married man should know
They now have made a law,
That if any man should dare ill-use his wife,
Six months he will bewail
In a dark and dismal jail,
With heavy irons on him day and night.
Men, be advised by me,
Use the women tenderly,
And to please her you must always cheerful run,
For you all must know full well,
If the truth you will but tell,
That a woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

Married women take advice,
Get you everything that’s nice,
A little drop of brandy, rum, or gin,
And if your husband should complain,
Give the compliment again,
And whack him with the wooden rolling-pin.
When some women well behaves,
They’re oft used worse than slaves,
And must not dare to use their pretty tongue,
Let the world say what it will,
I will say, and prove it still,
That a woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

They must wash and iron on,
They must mangle, starch, and blue,
They must get your victuals ready in a crack,
They must get you tea and toast,
They must frizzle, fry, and roast,
And wash the dirty shirt upon your back.
They must clean the quilt and rugs,
They must hunt the fleas and bugs,
They must nurse your little daughter and your son,
And, like a poor goose,
Get nothing but abuse,
A woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

Chorus.
Men, to your wives be kind,
Thus pleaseure you will find,
And happy through the world you will run,
You must surely tell a lie,
If this statement you deny,
A woman never knows when her day’s work’s done.

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