Author: Epitaph Page 6

A bird, a man, a loaded gun. No bird, dead man, thy will be done.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of William Beck – He was thrown at a hunt and broke his neck.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Samuel Proctor, who lived and died without a doctor.

Epitaphs

Behold! I come as a thief. – Death loves a shining mark. – In this case he had it.

Epitaphs

Here lies Lotta Dust.

Epitaphs

Peter Letig was his name, Heaven I hope his station, Baltimore was his dwelling place and Christ is his salvation.

Epitaphs

She failed her breathalizer test now she lays with the best

Epitaphs

OK . . . I gotta go now.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of our Anna, Done to death by a banana. It wasn't the fruit that laid her low, But the skin of the thing that made her go.

Epitaphs

I put my wife beneath this stone, for her repose and for my own.

Epitaphs

Here lies the bones of David Jones, Laid both dead and dumb. He read a law and plead a cause But died from drinking rum.

Epitaphs

Here lies (the Lord have mercy on her) One of Her Majesty's maids of honour: she was young, slender, and pretty; she died a maid — the more's the pity.

Epitaphs

Paul Lennis Swank – Here under the dung of cows and sheep, lies an old highclimber fast asleep. His trees all topped and his lines all hung. They say the old rascal died full of rum.

Epitaphs

Sacred to the memory of Henry Harris who died from a kick by a colt in his bowells. Peacable and quiet, a friend to his father and mother, respected by all who knew him, gone to the world where horses don’t kick, where sorrow and weeping are no more.

Epitaphs

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

Epitaphs

Rest In Peace Cousin Huet – We all know you didn't do it

Epitaphs

Of pneumonia supervening consumption complicated with other diseases, the main symptoms of which was insanity.

Epitaphs

Reader pass on and ne'er waste your time, On bad biography and bitter rhyme. For what I am this cumb'rous clay insures, And what I was, is no affair of yours.

Epitaphs

Elizabeth Scott lies buried here, She was born Nov 20th 1785, according to the best of her recollection.

Epitaphs

If Heaven be pleased when sinners cease to sin, if Hell be pleased when sinners enter in, if Earth be pleased when ridded of a knave, then all are pleased for Coleman’s in his grave.

Epitaphs

Here I lie, taken from life.

Epitaphs