Subject: Epitaphs (Page 9)

Here lies the worst king and the most miserable man in the kingdom.

The man buried here literally, went to the four winds

Of him within, nought e'er gratis was had, that you read this so cheap now makes him sad.

A peerless matron, pride of female life In every state, as widow, maid, or wife; who wedded, to threescore preserved her fame. She lived a phoenix, and expired in flame.

36-33-01-24-17 – Honey you don't know what you did for me, – Always playing the lottery. – The numbers you picked came in to play, – Two days after you passed away. – For this, a huge monument I do erect, – For now I get a yearly check. – How I wish you were alive, – For now we are worth 8.5

Here I lie, my name is Ball, I lived, I died, despised by all; and now I cannot chew my crust, I'm gone back to my ancient dust.

Here lies poor but honest Bryan Tunstall. He was a most expert angler until Death envious of his art, threw out his line hooked him, and landed him here the 21st day of April, 1790

Here lies Suzannah Ensign; Lord she is thin

Posterity will ne'er survey – A nobler grave than this: – Here lies the bones of Castlereagh: – Stop, traveller, and piss.

Jack Lemmon In…

His faults are buried with him beneath this stone. His virtues (if he had any) are remembered by his friends.

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

This debt I owe is justly due, and I am come to sleep with you.

Sacred to the remains of Jonathan Thompson. A pious Christian and affectionate husband. His disconsolate widow continues to carry on his grocery business At the old stand on Main Street: Cheapest and best prices in town.

A Finished Artist

Under this yew tree, buried would he be, because his father – he planted this yew tree.

He found a rope and picked it up, and with it walked away. It happened that to tother end, a horse was hitched, they say. They took the rope and tied it up, unto a hickory limb. It happened that the tother end, was somehow hitched to him.

He was literally a father to all the children of the parish.

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!

When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one.

A thousand ways cut short our days, none are exempt from death. A honey-bee by stinging me did stop my mortal breath.