Author: Epitaph Page 27

Hold my drink, you're gonna' love this.

Epitaphs

Mitchell – Well This Sucks

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

At threescore winters' end I died, a cheerless being, sole and sad; the nuptial knot I never tied, and wish my father never had.

Epitaphs

Don’t Talk So Damn Dumb

Epitaphs

Poems and Epitaphs are but stuff – Here lies Zed Blacksword – that’s enough

Epitaphs

Here lies one John Witherbee, – A Boston gallant chap was he. – God had no use for such as he, – The devil rejected Witherbee.

Epitaphs

Charlie was a chemist, but Charlie is no more. What Charlie thought was H20 was H2SO4.

Epitaphs

Here doth lye the bodie – Of John Flye, who did die – By a stroke from a sky-rocket – Which hit him on the eye-socket.

Epitaphs

Our life is but a summer's day: Some only breakfast, and away; Others to dinner stay, and are full fed; The oldest man but sups, and goes to bed. Large his account who lingers out the day; Who goes the soonest, has the least to pay.

Epitaphs

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

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

Tears cannot restore her –– therefore I weep.

Epitaphs

Rab McBeth – who died for the want of another breath.

Epitaphs

At last, a year-round resident

Epitaphs

Ope'd my eyes took a peep. Didn't like it went back to sleep.

Epitaphs

Here lies Gilles – Used no net, knew no fear, made mis-step, wound up here

Epitaphs

Under this yew tree, buried would he be, because his father – he planted this yew tree.

Epitaphs

Here lies Slip Mcvey. He would be here today, but bad whiskey and a fast gun put him away

Epitaphs

Here lieth Richard Dent in his last tenement.

Epitaphs

Little Johnny had a purple monkey, climbing up a yellow stick, little Johnny licked the purple paint of and it made him deathly sick. They stirred him up with calomel, they tried to move his liver, but all in vain, his little soul was wafted o'er the River.

Epitaphs