Author: Epitaph Page 14

Here lies the body of Jonathan Ground, who was lost at sea and never found.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Here lies an honest lawyer – and that is Strange.

Epitaphs

Julia Newton – died of thin shoes, April 17th, 1839, age 19 years.

Epitaphs

Entombed within this vault a lawyer lies, who, fame assureth us was just and wise, an able advocate and honest too; that's wondrous strange, indeed, if it be true.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

 Here lies the body of Dr Hayward, a man who never voted. Of such is the kingdom of Heaven.

Epitaphs

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.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Jonathan Tilton, whose friends reduced him to a skeleton. They robbed him out of all he had And now rejoice that he is dead.

Epitaphs

Sacred To the Memory of LEWIS WICKS, who was killed on Thursday the 4, Oct. at 2 O'ck. P.M. by a waggon loaded with hay running over his brest. AD.1821 AE 56 years 3 mo. & 4 d's. who has left an affectionate Consort, and numerous friends to lament his loss.

Epitaphs

Agreeable to the memory of Mrs Alinda Tewksbury. She was not a beleiver [sic] in the Christian idolitry.

Epitaphs

Father and Mother and I choose to be buried asunder. Father and Mother here, and I buried yonder.

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

Here lies the body of John Round. Lost at sea and never found.

Epitaphs

Louise. – The Unfortunate.

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Sacred to twins Charlie and Varlie. Sons of loving parents who died in infancy.

Epitaphs

Bill Blake – was hanged by mistake.

Epitaphs

I told you so, you damned fools.

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

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

Susan Tomkins here she lies, nobody laughs and nobody crys, where shes gone or how she fares nobody knows and nobody cares

Epitaphs