The Old Dame

Though she is remembered by name She rests in peace now the old Dame She enjoyed her title and fame But the reaper treats all as the same The knighted and those without esteem In death are all equal 'twould seem An expensive headstone to little does amount The dead in the census don't count And those who died without honour or those who died brave Are forever confined in the grave She received her title from the Queen And amongst the have nots she never was seen But now all is quiet where she lay Suppose that she did have her day.