Author: Epitaph Page 28

A thousand ways cut short our days, none are exempt from death. A honey-bee by stinging me did stop my mortal breath.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of John Smith. Buried in the cloisters. If he don't jump at the last trump, call, Oysters!

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 the body of Thomas Kemp, Who lived by wool and died by hemp

Epitaphs

HA! HA! I’m Pushing Up Daisies!!!

Epitaphs

School is out. Teacher Has gone home

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Jonathan Ground, who was lost at sea and never found.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

He called Bill Smith a liar

Epitaphs

Exit Burbridge

Epitaphs

I thought my doctor said I was heading for a rave.

Doctors Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Now Go Away and Leave Me Alone

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

To the Green Memory of William Hawkings, Gardener: Planted Here With Love and Care By His Grieving Colleagues

Epitaphs

Here lies the worst king and the most miserable man in the kingdom.

Epitaphs

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

We all have a debt – To nature due – I've paid mine – And so must you.

Epitaphs

Here rests an old woman who always was tired, for she lived in a house where no help was hired; Her very last words were, “My friends I am goin*, to a land where there's nothin' of washin' or sewin', and everything there shall be just to ray wishes, for where they don't eat there's no washin' of dishes; the land with sweet anthems is constantly ringin', but having no voice I'll get clear of the singin'." She folded her hands, her latest endeavor, and whispered, "Oh nothin', sweet nothin forever."

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

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

Epitaphs