Author: Epitaph Page 3

Our bodies are like shoes, which off we cast, physic their cobblers, and Death their last.

Epitaphs

And this is all that’s left of thee , thou fairest of earth’s daughters. Only four pounds of ashes white, out of two hundred and three quarters.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of John Mound, lost at sea and never found.

Epitaphs

I’m A Writer But Then Nobody’s Perfect

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

This is what I expected, but not so soon.

Epitaphs

This is to the memory of Ellen Hill, a woman who would always have her will. She snubbed her husband but she made good bread. Yet on the whole he’s rather glad she’s dead. She whipped her children and she drank her gin, whipped virtue out and whipped the devil in. May all such women go to some great fold, where they through all eternity may scold.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Ephraim Wise. Safely tucked between his two wives. One was Tillie and the other Sue. Both were faithful, loyal, and true. By his request in ground that's hilly. His coffin is set tilted toward Tillie.

Epitaphs

She lived with her husband for 50 years, and died in the confident hope of a better life.

Epitaphs

Elizabeth McFadden, wife of David P. Read. Died Feb. 28, 1859, in her 47th year. She never done a thing to displeas her husband.

Epitaphs

Here lies Elizabeth, my wife for 47 years, and this is the first damn thing she ever done to oblige me.

Epitaphs

… Dentist Brown – Is filling his last cavity.

Epitaphs

Throughout his life he kneaded bread and deemed it quite a bore. But now six feet beneath earth's crust he needeth bread no more.

Epitaphs

Poor Betty Conway, she drank lemonade at a masquerade, So now she's dead and gone away.

Epitaphs

Here Lies Joyce, She'd rather not, But no choice.

Epitaphs

Rodney Dangerfield – There Goes The Neighborhood

Epitaphs

To the memory of Ric Richards who by a gangrene first lost a toe, then a leg and lastly his life.

Epitaphs

Here lies the darling of his time – Mitchel expired in his prime. – Who four years short of forty seven – Was found full ripe and plucked for Heaven.

Epitaphs

Here lies within this tomb, so calm. Old Giles; pray sound his knell; who thought no song was like a psalm, no music like a knell.

Epitaphs

He had sand in his craw, But was slow on the draw, So we planted him ‘neath the daisies.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs