Quaint Epitaphs Part 2

He first departed, she a little tried to live without him. Liked it not and died.

His illness lay not in one part But o'er his frame it spread.

The fatal disease was in his heart And water in his head.

In memory of Elizabeth Taylor.

Could blooming years and modesty and all thats pleasing to the eye, Against grim death been a defence, Elizabeth had not gone hence.

Died when young and full of promise Of whooping cough our Thomas.

She lived with her husband fifty years And died in the confident hope of a better life.

Stop dear parent cast your eye, And here you see your children lie.

Though we are gone one day before, You may be cold in a minute more.

Little Teddy, fare thee well, Safe from earth in Heaven to dwell.

Almost Cherub here below, Altogether angel now.

On a tombstone for man and wife.

In sunny days and stormy weather, In youth, and age, we clung together.

We lived and loved, laughed and cried Together--and almost together died.

WINDSOR.

Behold! I come as a thief.

Death loves a shining mark.

In this case he had it.

STOWE.

Erected by a widower in memory of his two wives.

This double call is laid to all, Let none surprise or wonder.

But to the youth it speaks a truth, In accents loud as thunder.

Stranger pause as you pa.s.s by; My thirteen children with me lie.

See their faces how they shine Like blossoms on a fruitful vine.

A rum cough carried him off.

Here lies the body of old Uncle David, Who died in the hope of being sa-ved.

Where he's gone or how he fares, n.o.body knows and n.o.body cares.

The body that lies buried here By lightning fell, death's sacrifice, To him Elijah's fate was given He rode on flames of fire to heaven.

Stay, reader, drop upon this stone One pitying tear and then be gone: A handsome pile of flesh and blood Is here sunk down in its first mud.

I was somebody--who? is no business of yours.

My wife from me departed And robbed me like a knave; Which caused me broken hearted To sink into this grave.

My children took an active part, To doom me did contrive; Which stuck a dagger in my heart That I could not survive.

Pious.

Open thine eyes Lord I come! I come!

Sacred to the memory of three twins.

My gla.s.s is run; yours is running.

Remember death and judgment coming.

This stone was got to keep this lot.

Her father bought. Dig not too near.

Grim death took little Jerry, The son of Joseph and Sereno Howells, Seven days he wrestled with the dysentery And then he perished in his little bowels.

NEWFANE.

Oh, little Lavina she has gone To James and Charles and Eliza Ann.

Arm in arm they walk above Singing the Redeemer's love.