Author: Epitaph Page 8

Stranger pause and shed a tear, for Mary Jane lies buried here. Mingled in a most surprising manner with Susan, Marie and portions of Hannah.

Epitaphs

This wasn’t my idea

Epitaphs

Here lies my corpse who was the man, That lov'd a sop in dripping pan, But now believe me I am dead, Now here the pan stands at my head, Still for sop to the last I cry'd, But could not eat and so I died, My neighbours they perhaps may laugh, When they do read my epitaph.

Epitaphs

John Rose, Died Jan. 27. 1810, aged 10 years. Dr Friends and companions all, pray warning take by me, don't venture on the ice too far, as `twas the death of me.

Epitaphs

Reader if cash thou are – In want of any – dig 4 feet deep – And thou wilt find a Penny.

Epitaphs

Soon ripe, Soon rotten, Soon gone, Not forgotten

Epitaphs

Here I lie bereft of breath, because a cough carried me off; then a coffin they carried me off in.

Epitaphs

Dear Lemuel Willard Died in 1821 – When present useful, absent wanted – Lived respected, died lamented.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder. She burst while drinking a Seidlitz powder. Called from this world to her heavenly rest, she should have waited till it effervesced.

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

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

Epitaphs

Beneath this stone, in hopes of Zion, doth lie the landlord of the lion; his son keeps on the business still, resigned unto the heavenly will.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Arkansas Jim. We made the mistake, but the joke's on him.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Here lies one who never sacrificed his reason to superstitious God, nor ever believed that Jonah swallowed the whale.

Epitaphs

Tabitha wife of Moses Fledger Aged 55 – We shall miss thee, mother (Job printing neatly done.)

Epitaphs

A man of letters it seems was he; the college made him L.L.D. The Order a P.G.W.C. Grim death has given him the G.B., and may his ashes R.I.P.

Epitaphs

Ebenezer Dockwood aged forty seven. A miser and a hypocrite and never went to Heaven.

Epitaphs

He got a fish bone in his throat – And then he sang an angel's note.

Epitaphs

Here lies Salvino Armalo D'Armati of Florence, the inventor of spectacles. May God pardon his sins!

Epitaphs

This is all that remains of poor Ben Hough. He had forty-nine years and that was enough. Of worldly goods he had his share, And now he's gone to the Devil's snare.

Epitaphs