Author: Epitaph Page 12

Here rests an old woman who always was tired, for she lived in a house where no help was hired; Her very last words were, “My friends I am goin*, to a land where there's nothin' of washin' or sewin', and everything there shall be just to ray wishes, for where they don't eat there's no washin' of dishes; the land with sweet anthems is constantly ringin', but having no voice I'll get clear of the singin'." She folded her hands, her latest endeavor, and whispered, "Oh nothin', sweet nothin forever."

Epitaphs

Here richly, with ridiculous display, the politician’s corpse was laid away. While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged, I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.

Epitaphs

Slip McVey – He might a be here today – But rum, whisky an a bad gun – Put him away.

Epitaphs

They finally took Our good friend Scott, When a lightning bolt could not

Epitaphs

To the Green Memory of William Hawkings, Gardener: Planted Here With Love and Care By His Grieving Colleagues

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Go away – I’m asleep.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Peter Letig was his name, Heaven I hope his station, Baltimore was his dwelling place and Christ is his salvation.

Epitaphs

Gone Underground For Good

Epitaphs

A traveller lies here at rest, who life's rough ocean tossed on. His many virtues all expressed, thus simply – “I'm from Boston.”

Epitaphs

Here lies Dodge, who dodged all good, and dodged a deal of evil. But after dodging all he could, he could not dodge the devil.

Epitaphs

Here lies the wife of brother Thomas, whom tyrant death has torn from us, her husband never shed a tear, until his wife was buried here. And then he made a fearful rout, for fear she might find her way out.

Epitaphs

Here lies England's premier baron, patiently awaiting the last trump.

Epitaphs

Here lies my wife, here lies she; Hallelujah! Hallelujee!

Epitaphs

To the memory of David Wall – Whose superior performance on the bassoon endeared him to an extensive musical acquaintance. His social life closed on the 4th Dec. 1796. in his 57th year.

Epitaphs

She was in health at 11.30 A. M. – And left for Heaven at 3.30 P. M.

Epitaphs

The Lord was good I was lopping off wood – And down fell from a tree. – I met with a check that broke my neck – And so God lopped off me.

Epitaphs

Here lies Sissie Chang – Fumbled a grenade, went out with a bang

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs