When children are in want of bath
And parents seldom take to wrath
The odour that pervades the house
Is strong enough to gag a mouse
Forgetting soaps and scents and sprays
The runts perspire as they play
Their clothing soiled, stained, and torn
Their bodies smelly, scraped, and worn
When children are in want of bath
And parents seldom take to wrath
The little ones with which we dwell
Become too rank to see or smell.