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.