Epitaph
Here lies a poor woman who always was tired,
She lived in a house where help was not hired,
Her last words on earth were ” Dear friends, I am going
Where washing ain’t done nor sweeping nor sewing,
But everything there is exact to my wishes.
For where they don’t eat there’s no washing of dishes.
I’ll be where loud anthems will always be ringing,
But, having no voice, I’ll be clear of the singing.
Don’t mourn for me now, don’t mourn for me never
I’m going to do nothing for ever and ever.”
Submitted by Angela Read