Agatha Morley

All her life

Grumbled at dust

Like a good housewife.


Dust on the table,

Dust on the chair,

Dust on the mantle

She couldn't bear.


She forgave faults

In man and child

But a dusty shelf

Would set her wild.


She bore with sin

Without protest,

But dust thoughts preyed

Upon her rest


Agatha Morley

Is sleeping sound

Six feet under

The moldy ground.


Six feet under

The earth she lies

With dust at her feet

And dust in her eyes.


Sydney King Russell.



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