She kept her house so clean and bright,
She slaved throughout the day.
She scrubbed and swept and swept and scrubbed
And worked from May to May.
And now her house is standing still,
But in it reigns another,
Who cares not if the dust is deep
And thinks not of the other.
The house remembers not her love,
Her husband has forgotten
And now she lies but in the past
And dust from dust’s begotten.