She was a woman peerless in her station, <br />With household virtues wedded to her name; <br />Spotless in linen, grass-bleached in her fame; <br />And pure and clear-starched in her conversation; <br />Thence in my Castle of Imagination <br />She dwells for evermore, the dainty dame, <br />To keep all airy draperies from shame <br />And all dream furnitures in preservation: <br /> <br />There walketh she with keys quite silver bright, <br />In perfect hose and shoes of seemly black, <br />Apron and stomacher of lily white, <br />And decent order follows in her track: <br />The burnished plate grows lustrous in her sight, <br />And polished floors and tables shine her back.<br /><br />Thomas Hood<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-mistress-nicely-a-pattern-for-housekeepers/
