Subject: Epitaphs (Page 3)

This is the last long resting place, Of Aunt Jemima Jones, Her soul ascended into space, Amidst our tears and groans, She was not pleasing to the eye, Nor had she any brain, And when she talked twas through her nose, Which gave her friends much pain, But still we feel that she was worth, The money that was spent, upon the coffin, hearse and stone (The funeral plumes were lent).

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Martha Dias, Who was always uneasy and not over pious, She liv'd to the age of threescore and ten, And gave that to the worms she refus'd to the men.

Epitaphs

Many a heart by sorrow pressed, doth envy me my peaceful rest

Epitaphs

Although this stone may moulder into dust, yet Joseph Moodey's name continue must

Epitaphs

Here lays Butch. We planted him raw. He was quick on the trigger – But slow on the draw.

Epitaphs

Here lies an Atheist. All dressed up and no place to go.

Epitaphs

Of pneumonia supervening consumption complicated with other diseases, the main symptoms of which was insanity.

Epitaphs

Beneath these green trees rising to the skies, the planter of them, Isaac Greentree lies! A time shall come when these green trees shall fall, and Isaac Greentree rise above them all.

Epitaphs

I am not grieved, my dearest life. Sleep on, I've got another wife. Therefore, I cannot come to thee For I must go and live with she.

Epitaphs

Some have children, others none, Here lies the mother of twenty one.

Epitaphs

Here lies England's premier baron, patiently awaiting the last trump.

Epitaphs

Sacred to the memory of William Skaradon who came to his death by being shot with a Colts revolver, one of the old kind brass mounted and of such is the kingdom of heaven.

Epitaphs

Here lies Lester Moore. Four slugs from a .44. No Les, no more.

Epitaphs

Sacred to the memory of Henry Harris who died from a kick by a colt in his bowells. Peacable and quiet, a friend to his father and mother, respected by all who knew him, gone to the world where horses don’t kick, where sorrow and weeping are no more.

Epitaphs

To the memory of Ric Richards who by a gangrene first lost a toe, then a leg and lastly his life.

Epitaphs

My father and mother were both insane – I inherited the terrible stain. – My grandfather, grandmother, aunts and uncles – Were lunatics all, and yet died of carbuncles.

Epitaphs

My wife lies here. All my tears cannot bring her back, Therefore, I weep.

Epitaphs

There once was a man named Don, who fell asleep out on his lawn. They thought he was pretending to be dead, then a tombstone fell on his head. And now Don is long gone.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Molly Dickie, the Wife of Hall Dickie, tailor

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Mary Morgan. Like the morning dew she glistened, exhaled, and went to heaven.

Epitaphs

Ruth and Johnny, Side by side, Went out for an auto ride, They hit a bump. Ruth hit a tree, And John kept going – Ruthlessly.

Epitaphs