Author: Epitaph Page 22

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

Here doth lye the bodie – Of John Flye, who did die – By a stroke from a sky-rocket – Which hit him on the eye-socket.

The milk of human kindness was Vny own dear cherub wife – I'll never find another one as good in all my life. – She bloomed, she blossomed, she decayed. – And under this tree her body we laid.

Those who cared for him while living, will know whose body is buried here, to others it does not matter.

… He's done a-catching cod, and gone to meet his God.

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

Grim death took me without any warning. I was well at night, and dead in the morning.

I Dionysius underneath this tomb – Some sixty years of age have reached my doom. – Ne'er having married, think it sad, – And I wish my father never had.

Here lies Charles. Had six guns Needed seven. Now he is in heaven

Shall all we die? We shall die all. All die shall we? Die all we shall.

My candle burns at both ends, – It will not last the night, – But Oh, my foes, – And Ah, my friends, – It gives a lovely light

Here lies Frank a shining light, whose name, life, actions all were white.

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.

In Memory of Jacob, third son of Capt. Jacob Rice, died May 7, 1818 Et. 9 yrs. – His death was occasioned by the fall of a dung fork, one tine penetrating his brain.

On this marble drop a tear — Here lies poor Rosalind: All mankind were pleas'd with her, And she with all mankind.

“Don’t Try”

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.

Here lies Kelly, we buried him today. He lived the life of Riley, when Riley was away!

Mr. Fish. Worms are bait for fish, but here's a sudden change, fish is bait for worms. Is not that passing strange?

Here lies one who for medicine would not give, a little gold, and so his life he lost: I fancy now he'd wish again to live, could he but guess how much his funeral cost.

Rab McBeth – who died for the want of another breath.