Author: Epitaph Page 27

My wife lies here. All my tears cannot bring her back, Therefore, I weep.

Epitaphs

Jack Lemmon In…

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Thorp’s Corpse

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#$%& @!&% #?!$% @?*&!@^#!* @*$! &!%?

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Here lies one Wood enclosed in wood. One Wood within another. The outer wood Is very good: we cannot praise the other.

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

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My father and mother were both insane. I inherited the terrible stain. My grandfather, grandmother, Aunts and uncles Were lunatics all And yet died of carbuncles

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Here lies John Taggart, of honest fame, of stature low, and a leg lame; content he was with portion small, kept a shop in Wigtown, and that's all.

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Here lies my corpse who was the man, That lov'd a sop in dripping pan, But now believe me I am dead, Now here the pan stands at my head, Still for sop to the last I cry'd, But could not eat and so I died, My neighbours they perhaps may laugh, When they do read my epitaph.

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… Going! Going!! Gone!!!

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Connection reset by peer – He came, he saw, he logged out

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Fhebe Sprague. – In the sixteenth year of her age, – Natively quick and spry – As all young people be, – When God commands them down to dust, – How quick they drop you see.

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I would – rather be here – than in Texas.

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Gone, but not forgiven

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Here lies the Body of Captain Tully. Aged an hundred and nine years fully. And threescore years before, as Mayor, the sword of this city he did bear. Nine of his wives do with him lie, so shall the tenth when she doth die.

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Here lies one who never lied before. And one who never will lie More. To which there need be no More said.

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How sleep the brave who sink to rest, by all their country's wishes blest, they sleep not in their regimentals. Such things being here not deemed essentials.

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Here lies the body of Elred. At least he will be when he is dead. But now at this time he's still alive, 14th August '65.

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Approach and read, now with your hats on, for here lies Bailie William Watson; who was famous for his thinking, and moderation in his drinking.

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

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Open, open wide ye golden gates that lead to the heavenly shore. Our father suffered in passing through and mother weighs much more.

Epitaphs