Subject: Epitaphs (Page 10)

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Epitaphs

Here lies John Ross, kick'd by a boss.

Epitaphs

Here lie the bones of Joseph Jones who ate while he was able. But once overfed, he dropt down dead and fell beneath the table. When from the tomb, to meet his doom, he arises amidst sinners. Since he must dwell in heaven or hell, take him – whichever gives the best dinners.

Epitaphs

Beneath this stone lies Lamb asleep, who died a Lamb who lived a sheep. Many a lamb and sheep he slaughtered but cruel Death the scene has altered.

Epitaphs

Hi! – Stay high – Bye

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

John Macpherson Was a remarkable person. He stood six feet two Without his shoe, And he was slew At Waterloo.

Epitaphs

Here lies Lotta Dust.

Epitaphs

I knew if I waited around long enough something like this would happen.

(1856 – 1950) Irish playwright & socialist
Death Epitaphs

Samuel Gardner was blind in one eye and in a moment of confusion he stepped out of a receiving and discharging door in one of the warehouses into the ineffable glories of the celestial sphere.

Epitaphs

Listen, Mother, Aunt and me, were killed, here we be. We should not had time to missle had they blown the engine whistle.

Epitaphs

I will NOT be right back after this message.

Epitaphs

Pray, reader, stop, and read my fate, – What caused my life to terminate; – For thieves one night, when in my bed, – Broke in my house and shot me dead.

Epitaphs

Louise. – The Unfortunate.

Epitaphs

Here lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery free, Who long was a bookseller's hack. He led such a damnable life in this world I don't think he'll ever come back.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

1890. The light of my Life has gone out. – 1891. I have struck another match.

Epitaphs

Here lyeth wrapped in clay, the body of Ester Wray: I have no more to say, except bless the day, she went away 3rd May 1872.

Epitaphs

Here lays Butch. We planted him raw. He was quick on the trigger – But slow on the draw.

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

Here lies the landlord Tommy Dent In his last cosy tenement.

Epitaphs