Author: Epitaph Page 19

The Lord saw good; I was lopping off wood, and down fell from the tree; I met with a check, and I broke my neck, and so Death lopped off me.

Epitaphs

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

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

This debt I owe is justly due, and I am come to sleep with you.

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Cast a cold eye on life, on death. Horseman, pass by!

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This stone was raised by Frieda's Lord, not Frieda's virtues to record, for they are known to all the town. This stone was raised to keep her down.

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Struck by thunder.

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

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This wasn’t my idea

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Here lies entombed one Roger Morton, whose sudden death was early brought on; trying one day his corn to mow off, the razor slipped and cut his toe off. The toe, or rather what it grew to, an inflammation quickly flew to; the parts they took to mortifying, And poor dear Roger took to dying.

Epitaphs

Our bodies are like shoes, which off we cast, physic their cobblers, and Death their last.

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Here I lie, snuck as a bug in a rug – Two rows down in same cemetery – Here I lie, snugger than that other bugger

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Here lies the body of Lady O'Looney, Grand-niece to Edmund Burke, Commonly called "the sublime." She was bland, passionate, and religious. Also, She painted in water-colors. Also, She sent several articles to the Exhibition.

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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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I told you so, you damned fools.

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I had a lover's quarrel with the world

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I'll thank you not to put your butt on my grave.

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Bill Blake – was hanged by mistake.

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Buried here beneath this clay lies gardener John Arbothnaut Jay. Now in his simpeternal home, a constant source of high-grade loam.

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Samuel Gardner was blind in one eye and in a moment of confusion he stepped out of a receiving and discharging door in one of the warehouses into the ineffable glories of the celestial sphere.

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Here lies the body of Johnny Haskell, A lying, thieving, cheating rascal; He always lied, and now he lies, He has no soul and cannot rise.

Epitaphs