Author: Epitaph Page 7

Here lies old Rastus Sominy – died a-eating hominy, In 1859 anno domini

Epitaphs

At rest beneath this slab of stone, lies stingy Jimmy Wyatt. He died one morning just at ten, and saved a dinner by it.

Epitaphs

The Lord was good I was lopping off wood – And down fell from a tree. – I met with a check that broke my neck – And so God lopped off me.

Epitaphs

The death angel struck Alexander McGlue and gave him protracted repose; he wore a checked shirt and a No. 9 shoe And had a pink wart on his nose. No doubt he is happy a-dwelling in space over on the evergreen shore. His friends are informed that his funeral takes place at precisely a quarter past four.

Epitaphs

… With patience wait perforce to die And in a short time you'll come to I.

Epitaphs

Neal Keven – His accounts were found square to a cent.

Epitaphs

My father and mother were both insane – I inherited the terrible stain. – My grandfather, grandmother, aunts and uncles – Were lunatics all, and yet died of carbuncles.

Epitaphs

Reader pass on and ne'er waste your time, On bad biography and bitter rhyme. For what I am this cumb'rous clay insures, And what I was, is no affair of yours.

Epitaphs

John Palfryman who is buried here, was aged four and twenty years. And near this place his Mother lies, likewise his father when he dies.

Epitaphs

Here lies Donald and his wife Janett McPhee, aged 40 he and 30 she.

Epitaphs

Approach and read, now with your hats on, for here lies Bailie William Watson; who was famous for his thinking, and moderation in his drinking.

Epitaphs

Here lies England's premier baron, patiently awaiting the last trump.

Epitaphs

I made an ash of myself

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Here lies the body of Edward Hyde. We laid him here because he died.

Epitaphs

My sledge and anvil lie declined, my bellows too have lost their wind; my fire’s extinct, my forge decay’d. And in the dust my body’s laid: my coal is out, my iron’s gone, my nails are drove, my work is done.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Richard Thomas, an Englishman by birth, a Whig of '76 – a Cooper by trade, now food for worms. Like an old rum puncheon whose staves are all marked and numbered he will be raised and put together again by his Maker.

Epitaphs

Here lies old Aunt Hannah Proctor who purged but didn't call the doctor: she couldn't stay, she had to go praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Epitaphs

Jack Lemmon In…

Epitaphs

Rodney Dangerfield – There Goes The Neighborhood

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"Here lies my husband – what else is new"

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

Epitaphs