Author: Epitaph Page 19

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

Epitaphs

Here beneath this stone we lie, back to back my wife and I, And when the angels trump shall trill, If she gets up then I'll lie still!

Epitaphs

Here lies one who never lied before. And one who never will lie More. To which there need be no More said.

Epitaphs

Here richly, with ridiculous display, the politician’s corpse was laid away. While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged, I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.

Epitaphs

How sleep the brave who sink to rest, by all their country's wishes blest, they sleep not in their regimentals. Such things being here not deemed essentials.

Epitaphs

My life’s been hard, and all things show it; I always thought so and now I know it.

Epitaphs

Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought so once and now I know it.

Epitaphs

To the memory of David Wall – Whose superior performance on the bassoon endeared him to an extensive musical acquaintance. His social life closed on the 4th Dec. 1796. in his 57th year.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body Of Margaret Bent. She kicked up her heels And away she went.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Jonathan Blake. Stepped on the gas instead of the brake.

Epitaphs

He was young – He was fair – But the Injuns – Raised his hair

Conflict Epitaphs Hair Young

Since all that's mortal turns to dust, Reader! be humble and be just; 'Twill ease thy mind of anxious care, and sooth thy passage — God knows where!

Epitaphs

Here lies Lord Coningsby – be civil, the rest God knows – so does the Devil.

Epitaphs

Grim Death To Please His Palate Has Taken My Lettice To Put in His Sallat.

Epitaphs

Here lies the wife of brother Thomas, whom tyrant death has torn from us, her husband never shed a tear, until his wife was buried here. And then he made a fearful rout, for fear she might find her way out.

Epitaphs

He was a simple man who died of complications.

Epitaphs

Slip McVey – He might a be here today – But rum, whisky an a bad gun – Put him away.

Epitaphs

Here I lie, my name is Ball, I lived, I died, despised by all; and now I cannot chew my crust, I'm gone back to my ancient dust.

Epitaphs

She failed her breathalizer test now she lays with the best

Epitaphs

She was not smart, she was not fair, but hearts with grief for her are swellin'; all empty stands her little chair: she died of eatin' water-mellon.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Miriam Wood, formerly wife to John Smith. A woman well beloved of all her neighbors for her care of small folks' education, their number being great, that when she died she scarcely left her mate: so wise discreet was her behaviours that she was well esteemed by neighbors. She lived in love with all to die so let her rest to eternitye.

Epitaphs