Author: Epitaph Page 6

Sacred to the memory of Henry Harris who died from a kick by a colt in his bowells. Peacable and quiet, a friend to his father and mother, respected by all who knew him, gone to the world where horses don’t kick, where sorrow and weeping are no more.

Epitaphs

Our papa dear has gone to Heaven, to make arrangements for eleven.

Epitaphs

Here lies Ned. There is nothing more to be said, because we like to speak well of the dead. I came into this world without my consent, and left in the same manner.

Epitaphs

Born of woman, killed by lead. I most likely had your wife in bed.

Epitaphs

Here lies my wife in earthly mould, who, when she liv'd, did naught but scold; peace, wake her not, for now she's still, she had, but now I have my will.

Epitaphs

Due to lack of ground in this cemetery, two bodies are buried in this one plot. One of them was a politician, the other was an honest man.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Alass Frend Joseph, His End was Almost Sudden, as thou the mandate came express from heaven his foot it slip and he did fall help, help he cries & that was all.

Epitaphs

“I See Dumb People”

Epitaphs

Planted here beneath sod. At peaceful rest lies brother Claude

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

Wherever you be, let your wind go free. For holding it in, was the killing of me.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Here lies Donnie Cornwell, good and dead. In an extra large coffin to fit his extra large head.

Epitaphs

Of him within, nought e'er gratis was had, that you read this so cheap now makes him sad.

Epitaphs

They finally took Our good friend Scott, When a lightning bolt could not

Epitaphs

Here lies my poor wife, much lamented, She is happy and I am contented.

Epitaphs

Here lies a man never beat by a plan, straight was his aim and sure of his game, never was a lover but invented a revolver.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Jonathan Tilton, whose friends reduced him to a skeleton. They robbed him out of all he had And now rejoice that he is dead.

Epitaphs

His virtues and his pills are so well known, that envy can’t confine them under stone.

Epitaphs

I am not grieved, my dearest life. Sleep on, I've got another wife. Therefore, I cannot come to thee For I must go and live with she.

Epitaphs