Subject: Epitaphs (Page 10)

Here lies Sir John Guise: No one laughs, no one cries: Where he's gone, and how he fares, No one knows, and no one cares.

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

Dinah had a little can, 'Twas filled with kerosine. And soon among the twinkling stars – Dynamite Benzine.

Epitaphs

Here lies the Body of Captain Tully. Aged an hundred and nine years fully. And threescore years before, as Mayor, the sword of this city he did bear. Nine of his wives do with him lie, so shall the tenth when she doth die.

Epitaphs

Here lies William Green, who died in Manchester, Sept. 18, 18__. Had he lived, he would have been buried here.

Epitaphs

She was good but not brilliant; useful but not great.

Epitaphs

A Funny Thing Happened

Epitaphs

Some have children, others none, Here lies the mother of twenty one.

Epitaphs

Here lies Gilles. He used no net, Knew no fear. He made a misstep And wound up here

Epitaphs

Behold! I come as a thief. – Death loves a shining mark. – In this case he had it.

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

Here lie the remains of John Hall, grocer. The world is not worth a fig, and I have good raisins for saying so.

Epitaphs

Moses White. His grand excellence was that he was genuine.

Epitaphs

Mary Weary, Housewife. Dere friends I am going where washing ain't done or cooking or sewing: don't mourn for me now or weep for me never: for I go to do nothing, forever and ever!

Epitaphs

“I’m just resting my eyes”

Epitaphs

Gone home below.

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

This is to the memory of Ellen Hill, a woman who would always have her will. She snubbed her husband but she made good bread. Yet on the whole he’s rather glad she’s dead. She whipped her children and she drank her gin, whipped virtue out and whipped the devil in. May all such women go to some great fold, where they through all eternity may scold.

Epitaphs

Bye

Epitaphs

Here lies a man that was Knott born, His father was Knott before him, He lived Knott, and did Knott die, Yet underneath this stone doth lie.

Epitaphs

Here Lieth W.W. – Who never more will, trouble you, trouble you

Epitaphs