Author: Epitaph Page 5

Here lieth father Sparges, who died to save charges.

Epitaphs

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.

Epitaphs

Wherever you be, let your wind go free. For holding it in, was the killing of me.

Epitaphs

Gone, but not forgiven

Epitaphs

Farewell my young companions all. From death's arrest no age is free. Remember this, a warning call. Prepare to follow after me.

Epitaphs

Scotty… beam me up!

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She drank good ale, good punch and wine and lived to the age of 99.

Epitaphs

Here lie Walker's particles.

Epitaphs

Here lies Lord Coningsby – be civil, the rest God knows – so does the Devil.

Epitaphs

Here lies my wife in earthy mould, who when she lived did naught but scold. Peace! wake her not, for now she’s still; she had, but now I have my will.

Epitaphs

Beneath these green trees rising to the skies, the planter of them, Isaac Greentree lies! A time shall come when these green trees shall fall, and Isaac Greentree rise above them all.

Epitaphs

Good Susan Blake in royal state – Arrived at last at Heaven's gate."But Peter met her with a club – And knocked her back to Beelzebub."

Epitaphs

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

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

His faults are buried with him beneath this stone. His virtues (if he had any) are remembered by his friends.

Epitaphs

RUSSELL J. LARSEN – Two things I love most, good horses and beautiful women, and when I die I hope they tan this old hide of mine, and make it into a ladies riding saddle, so I can rest in peace between the two things I love.

Epitaphs

“Here lies my wife in earthy mold, Who when she died and naught but scold. Good friends go softly in your walking lest she should wake and rise up talking”

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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.

Epitaphs

Beneath this stone, in hopes of Zion, doth lie the landlord of the lion; his son keeps on the business still, resigned unto the heavenly will.

Epitaphs

Here lies Lester Moore. Four slugs from a .44. No Les, no more.

Epitaphs

He called Bill Smith a liar

Epitaphs