Clarke Now Washes His Shirts

Clarke now washes his trousers and shirts And wants wife to be washing her skirts. Not a rule launderers quit the dirt Release of cash to soap men could hurt... Washing one's pants touches not one's worth, A decreed king it won't change nor birth, Cleaning foul singlet not without mirth, At one's kingdom one shall, at last, berth... The truth in what you have heard a dearth, Like the ones in tales told by a hearth; It's deserved if into two I burst And of my sad fate men note the worst.