Subject: Epitaphs (Page 2)

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

Here lies Clyde – Whose life was full – Until he tried – To milk a bull.

Epitaphs

He had sand in his craw, But was slow on the draw, So we planted him ‘neath the daisies.

Epitaphs

To follow you I am not content, How do I know Which way you went.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Emily White, she signalled left, and then turned right.

Epitaphs

The manner of her death was thus; She was druv over by a Bus.

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

Poems and Epitaphs are but stuff – Here lies Zed Blacksword – that’s enough

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Grim death took me without any warning, I was well one day, and stone dead next morning.

Epitaphs

Here Delia's buried at fourscore; When young, a lewd rapacious Whore, Vain and expensive; but when old, A pious, sordid, drunken Scold.

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

Here lies one that once was born and cried, Lived several years — and then he died

Epitaphs

"Lord, thy grace is free, — why not for me?"

And the Lord answered and said, — "Because thy debts aint paid I”

Epitaphs

Here lies Fuller's earth.

Epitaphs

I've finally stopped getting dumber.

Epitaphs

I had a lover's quarrel with the world

Epitaphs

Here lies old Jones, who all his life collected bones, till death, that grim and bony spectre, that all-amassing bone collector, boned old Jones, so neat and tidy, that here he lies all bona fide.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Until the brakes are turned on time, – Life's throttle-valve shut down. – He works to pilot in the crew – That wears the martyr's crown. – On schedule time, on upper grade – Along the homeward section. – He lands his train in God's roundhouse – The mom of resurrection. – His time is full, no wages docked, – His name on God's pay roll. – And transportation through to Heaven – A free pass for his soul.

Epitaphs

Mitchell – Well This Sucks

Epitaphs