Author: Epitaph Page 14

Here lies the body of Sarah Sexton – She was a wife that never vexed one. – But I can't say as much for the one at the next stone.

Epitaphs

Here lies Bryan Wilkinson – The doc said he'd be 'alright,’ Guess doc was all wrong

Epitaphs

Old Vicar Sutor lieth here, Who had a Mouth from ear to ear. Reader tread lightly on the sod. For if he gapes, you're gone by G —.

Epitaphs

Here lies my wife, here lies she; Hallelujah! Hallelujee!

Epitaphs

“Deeply regretted by all who never knew him.”

Epitaphs

I made an ash of myself

Epitaphs

Thorp’s Corpse

Epitaphs

Whether sailor or not, for a moment avast, poor Tom's mizzen topsail is laid to the mast; he'll never turn out, or more heave the lead; he's now all aback, nor will sails shoot ahead. He ever was brisk, and tho' now gone to wreck. When he hears the last whistle, he'll jump upon deck.

Epitaphs

Here lies Arnel. ‘You should see the other guy.’

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A zealous locksmith died of late, and did not enter Heaven’s gate. But stood without and would not knock , because he meant to pick the lock.

Epitaphs

Here lies John Hill, a man of skill. His age was five times ten, he ne'er did good, nor ever would, had he lived as long again.

Epitaphs

Mary Weary, Housewife. Dere friends I am going where washing ain't done or cooking or sewing: don't mourn for me now or weep for me never: for I go to do nothing, forever and ever!

Epitaphs

Here lies a man who all his mortal life, spent mending clocks, but could not mend his wife. The larum of his bell was ne’er so shrill as was her tongue, aye, clacking like a mill. But now he’s gone – oh whither none can tell, but hope beyond the sound of Matty’s bell.

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Reader, I've left this world, in which I had a world to do; sweating and fretting to get rich: just such a fool as you.

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… With patience wait perforce to die And in a short time you'll come to I.

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Rest In Peace Cousin Huet – We all know you didn't do it

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Mr. Fish. Worms are bait for fish, but here's a sudden change, fish is bait for worms. Is not that passing strange?

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Pray for me, old Thomas Dunn, but if you don't, tis all one.

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Hell no! I came here to die not to make a speech!

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Been Here: Now Gone: Had a Good Time.

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Here lies interr'd a man o' micht, they ca'd him Malcolm Downie; he lost his life ae market night, by fa'ing aff his pownie. [pony] Aged 37 Years.

Epitaphs