Author: Epitaph Page 7

Fair maiden Lilliard – lies under this stane – little was her stature – but muckle was her fame – upon the English loons – she laid monie thumps – and when her legs were cuttit off – she fought upon her stumps.

Epitaphs

Here I at length repose, My spirit now at aise is; With the tips of my toes And the point of my nose Turned up to the roots of the daisies.

Epitaphs

She lived a life of virtue and died of the cholera morbus, caused by eating green fruit in hope of a blessed immortality.

Epitaphs

“Don’t Try”

Epitaphs

My trip is ended: send my samples home

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

… With patience wait perforce to die And in a short time you'll come to I.

Epitaphs

He was a simple man who died of complications.

Epitaphs

Once I wasn't – then I was. Now I ain't again.

Epitaphs

Factory Reject

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Here lies the body of Arkansas Jim. We made the mistake, but the joke's on him.

Epitaphs

Here lie I, Martin Elginbrodde: Hae mercy o' my soul, Lord God; As I wad do, were I Lord God, And ye were Martin Elginbrodde.

Epitaphs

Here lies my wife in earthly mould, who, when she liv'd, did naught but scold; peace, wake her not, for now she's still, she had, but now I have my will.

Epitaphs

OK . . . I gotta go now.

Epitaphs

Beneath this smooth stone by the bone of his bone, Sleeps Master John Gill; By lies when alive this attorney did thrive, And now that he's dead he lies still.

Epitaphs

This world is a prison in every respect, whose walls are the heavens in common; the jailor is sin, and the prisoners men; and the fetters are nothing but women.

Epitaphs

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.

Epitaphs

A Man.

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Here lies the body of Edward Hyde. We laid him here because he died.

Epitaphs

The death angel struck Alexander McGlue and gave him protracted repose; he wore a checked shirt and a No. 9 shoe And had a pink wart on his nose. No doubt he is happy a-dwelling in space over on the evergreen shore. His friends are informed that his funeral takes place at precisely a quarter past four.

Epitaphs

This is the grave of Mike O'Day, Who died maintaining his right of way. His right was clear, his will was strong. But he's just as dead as if he'd been wrong.

Epitaphs