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diff --git a/22518-h/22518-h.htm b/22518-h/22518-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..707c6eb --- /dev/null +++ b/22518-h/22518-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2788 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=us-ascii" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of "Quaint Epitaphs" by Susan Darling Safford.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 28%; margin-right: 28%;} + p {margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + line-height: 1.1em; + text-align: justify;} + p.indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} + p.marg1 {text-indent: 1em; margin-left: 3%;} + p.marg1b {margin-left: 5%;} + p.marg1bb {text-indent: 1em; margin-left: 5%;} + p.marg2 {margin-left: 8%;} + p.marg3 {margin-left: 10%;} + p.marg3b {margin-left: 12%;} + p.marg3c {margin-left: 14%;} + p.marg4 {margin-left: 16%;} + p.marg5 {margin-left: 18%;} + p.marg6 {margin-left: 20%;} + p.marg7 {margin-left: 24%;} + p.marg8 {margin-left: 26%;} + p.marg9 {margin-left: 28%;} + p.center {text-align: center;} + span.pagenum {position: absolute; + right: 1%; + color: gray; background-color: inherit; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + font-size: 8pt;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + /* Text Blocks ------------------------------------------ */ + blockquote {text-align: justify; font-size: 0.9em;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + /* Headers ---------------------------------------------- */ + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + /* Horizontal Rules ------------------------------------- */ + hr {width: 65%; + margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; + margin-top: 2.0em; margin-bottom: 2.0em; + clear: both;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + hr.short {width: 20%;} + /* Tables ----------------------------------------------- */ + .tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; + padding: 1em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} /* transcriber's notes */ + + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Quaint Epitaphs, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Quaint Epitaphs + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 5, 2007 [EBook #22518] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUAINT EPITAPHS *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tr"> +<p style="text-align:center;font-weight: bold;">Transcriber's +Notes:</p> +Transcriber's Notes + + Non-standard spellings, typos and non-standard punctuation have + been left as they appear in the original, except in a few + cases where standardization was needed for clarity. +</div> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<p style= "text-align: center; font-weight: 600; font-size: 3.0em"> +<font face="Harrington">"Quaint Epitaphs"</font></p> + +<h4>COLLECTED BY</h4> + +<p style= "text-align: center; font-weight: 600; font-size: 2.0em" class="sc"> +<font face="Comic Sans MS">Susan Darling Safford.</font></p> + + + + +<p style= "text-align: center; font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.0em" class="sc">Copyright, 1895,</p> + +<p style= "text-align: center; font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.0em" class="sc">By SUSAN DARLING SAFFORD.</p> + +<p style= "text-align: center; font-weight: 300; font-size: 0.7em" class="sc"> +<font face="Franklin Gothic Book">ALFRED MUDGE & SON, PRINTERS, 24 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON.</font></p> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>INTRODUCTION.</h2> +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="indent">This collection of epitaphs was started in a very modest fashion about +thirty-five years ago, when the compiler found great pleasure in +searching all the graveyards near her Vermont home for quaint +inscriptions upon old tombstones. It was neither a morbid curiosity nor +a spirit of melancholy that attracted her to the weather-beaten slabs of +marble and slate, but rather a fondness for studying human eccentricity +as revealed in whimsical epitaphs. In almost every graveyard one can +find</p> + + + <p class="blockquot">"Some frail memorial still erected nigh,<br /> + With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked"</p> + + +<p>and these have given many hours of pleasure to one who finds in such +sombre elegies of the dead most interesting reflections of the living.</p> + + +<p class="indent">As the only purpose of carrying on such odd researches was to satisfy a +fondness for freakish ingenuity, much less interest was found in the +thousands of amusing epitaphs that are penned by writers for comic +papers or by wags in general. Fictitious inscriptions lack the charm of +authenticity, which in the case of epitaphs is decidedly more desirable +than imagination. All selections which could not be definitely located +are classed by themselves, but many of these are known to have actually +existed, though for varying reasons the collector is unable to vouch for +their exact locality.</p> +<p class="indent">In a few instances the names have been changed, where it was thought +that verbatim copies of the epitaphs might prove invidious to the +relatives or friends of the dead. It is hoped that the division into +localities will prove a convenience to a majority of readers, who +naturally will not care to read such a book through at one sitting, but +rather to pick it up now and then when in the mood for such light +entertainment as it can afford. The spelling has necessarily been +changed at times from the antiquated and almost hieroglyphic forms which +would defy the most careful typography; but in general the orthography +and punctuation are copied verbatim from the originals.</p> +<p class="indent">The compiler trusts that it is not an act of unreasonable presumption to +publish a book of epitaphs when so many already exist. In fact it was +partly because of the numerous requests for an examination of her +collection that the plan of publishing it was adopted. Such an ambitious +consummation of her pleasant labor never occurred to her until her +original note-books became badly worn and torn in their travels from +friend to friend, from town to town, and it is hardly an exaggeration to +say that they have been from Portland to Portland, from Augusta to +Augusta, in response to the urgent requests of those who have in some +manner heard of their existence. If her collection is as kindly received +in book form as it has been in its less pretentious condition, the +editor will feel that its publication was not due to an immoderate +confidence in its variety and general interest. +</p> + + + <p style="text-indent: 10%;">SUSAN DARLING SAFFORD.</p> + + + <p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Boston, Mass</font>., April 6, 1895.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + + +<h2>QUAINT EPITAPHS.</h2> + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>MAINE.</h3> + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Winslow.</font></p> + + <p class="marg1">Here lies the body of Richard Thomas, an Englishman by birth, a Whig + of '76—a Cooper by trade, now food for worms. Like an old rum + puncheon whose staves are all marked and numbered he will be raised + and put together again by his Maker.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">Here lies the body of John Mound<br /> + Lost at sea and never found.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg6">Here lies one Wood enclosed in wood,<br /> + One Wood within another.<br /> + The outer wood is very good,<br /> + We cannot praise the other.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Portland.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">The little hero that lies here<br /> + Was conquered by the diarrhœa.</p> +<br /><br /> + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Gridiwokag—1635.</font></p> + + <p class="marg5">Beneath this stone now dead to grief<br /> + Lies Grid the famous Wokag chief.<br /> + Pause here and think you learned prig,<br /> + This man was once an Indian big.<br /> + Consider this, ye lowly one,<br /> + This man was once a big in—jun.<br /> + Now he lies here, you too must rot,<br /> + As sure as pig shall go to pot.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="center">In the same churchyard.</p> + + + <p class="marg6">Here Betsy Brown her body lies.<br /> + Her soul is flying in the skies.<br /> + While here on earth she oftimes spun<br /> + Six hundred skeins from sun to sun,<br /> + And wove one day, her daughter brags,<br /> + Two hundred pounds of carpet rags. +</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Eastport.</font></p> + + <p class="center">"Transplanted"</p> + + +<br /><br /> + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Kittery—1803.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">I lost my life in the raging seas<br /> + A sovereign God does as he please.<br /> + The Kittery friends did then appear,<br /> + And my remains they buried here.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">We can but mourn our loss,<br /> + Though wretched was his life.<br /> + Death took him from the cross,<br /> + Erected by his wife.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Bath.</font></p> + + <p class="marg5">Our life is but a Winter's day.<br /> + Some breakfast and away.<br /> + Others to dinner stay and are well fed.<br /> + The oldest sups and goes to bed.<br /> + Large is his debt who lingers out the day,<br /> + Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="center">John Phillips.</p> + + + <p class="marg3b">Accidentally shot as a mark of affection by his brother.<br /> + After life's fever, I sleep well.</p> + +<br /><br /> +<br /><br /> + + +<h3>NEW HAMPSHIRE.</h3> + + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Hollis.</font></p> + + <p class="marg5">Here the old man lies<br /> + No one laughs and no one cries<br /> + Where he's gone or how he fares<br /> + No one knows and no one cares.<br /> + But his brother James and his wife Emeline<br /> + They were his friends all the time.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg4">Here lies our young and blooming daughter—<br /> + Murdered by the cruel and relentless Henry.<br /> + When coming home from school he met her,<br /> + And with a six self shooter, shot her.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies Cynthia, Stevens' wife<br /> + She lived six years in calms and strife.<br /> + Death came at last and set her free.<br /> + I was glad and so was she.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg7">In youth he was a scholar bright.<br /> + In learning he took great delight.<br /> + He was a major's only son.<br /> + It was by love he was undone.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">Here lies old Caleb Ham,<br /> + By trade a bum.<br /> + When he died the devil cried,<br /> + Come, Caleb, come.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Peak Cemetery.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Thomas Culbert.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">The voice of a stepfather beneath this<br /> + Stone is to rest one, shamefully robbed<br /> + In life by his wife's son, and Esq Tom<br /> + And David Learys wife</p> + + + <p class="center">(The above is a verbatim copy.)</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Guilford.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Josiah Haines.</p> + + + <p class="marg8">He was a blessing to the saints,<br /> + To sinners rich and poor,<br /> + He was a kind and worthy man,<br /> + He's gone to be no more.<br /> + He kept the faith unto the end<br /> + And left the world in peace.<br /> + He did not for a doctor send<br /> + Nor for a hireling priest.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Mrs. Josiah Haines.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Here beneath these marble stones<br /> + Sleeps the dust and rests the bones<br /> + Of one who lived a Christian life<br /> + T'was Haines's—Josiah's wife.<br /> + She was a woman full of truth<br /> + And feared God from early youth.<br /> + And priests and elders did her fight<br /> + Because she brought her deeds to light.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Pembroke.</font></p> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies a man never beat by a plan,<br /> + Straight was his aim and sure of his game,<br /> + Never was a lover but invented a revolver.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Jaffrey.</font></p> + +<p class="indent">A free negro, Amos Fortune, settled in Jaffrey more than one hundred +years ago, though warned off as a possible pauper, and left one quaint +bit of history—his estate, to the town. Part of it bought the communion +service still in use (1895.) On the gravestone of his wife is this +inscription:—</p> + + +<p class="marg1">Sacred to the memory of Violate, by purchase the Slave of Amos Fortune, +by marriage his wife, by fidelity his companion and solace, and by his +death his widow.</p> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + + +<h3>VERMONT.</h3> + + +<p class="marg1">Our little Jacob has been taken away to bloom in a superior flower pot +above.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">My wife lies here.<br /> + All my tears cannot bring her back;<br /> + Therefore, I weep.</p> + + +<p class="center">This little buttercup was bound to join the heavenly choir.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Burlington.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">Beneath this stone our baby lays<br /> + He neither crys or hollers.<br /> + He lived just one and twenty days,<br /> + And cost us forty dollars.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">Charity wife of Gideon Bligh<br /> + Underneath this stone doth lie<br /> + Naught was she e'er known to do<br /> + That her husband told her to.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg6">Here lies the wife of brother Thomas,<br /> + Whom tyrant death has torn from us,<br /> + Her husband never shed a tear,<br /> + Until his wife was buried here.<br /> + And then he made a fearful rout,<br /> + For fear she might find her way out.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="marg1">He first departed, she a little tried to live without him. Liked it not +and died.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">His illness lay not in one part<br /> + But o'er his frame it spread.<br /> + The fatal disease was in his heart<br /> + And water in his head.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="center">In memory of Elizabeth Taylor.</p> + <p>Could blooming years and modesty and all thats pleasing to the eye,<br /> + Against grim death been a defence,<br /> + Elizabeth had not gone hence.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg6">Died when young and full of promise<br /> + Of whooping cough our Thomas.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg4">She lived with her husband fifty years<br /> + And died in the confident hope of a better life.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg5">Stop dear parent cast your eye,<br /> + And here you see your children lie.<br /> + Though we are gone one day before,<br /> + You may be cold in a minute more.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">Little Teddy, fare thee well,<br /> + Safe from earth in Heaven to dwell.<br /> + Almost Cherub here below,<br /> + Altogether angel now.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">On a tombstone for man and wife.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">In sunny days and stormy weather,<br /> + In youth, and age, we clung together.<br /> + We lived and loved, laughed and cried<br /> + Together—and almost together died.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Windsor.</font></p> + +<p class="center">Behold! I come as a thief.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg9">Death loves a shining mark.<br /> + In this case he had it.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Stowe.</font></p> + +<p class="center">Erected by a widower in memory of his two wives.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">This double call is laid to all,<br /> + Let none surprise or wonder.<br /> + But to the youth it speaks a truth,<br /> + In accents loud as thunder.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Stranger pause as you pass by;<br /> + My thirteen children with me lie.<br /> + See their faces how they shine<br /> + Like blossoms on a fruitful vine.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="center">A rum cough carried him off.</p> + + + + <p class="marg6">Here lies the body of old Uncle David,<br /> + Who died in the hope of being sa-ved.<br /> + Where he's gone or how he fares,<br /> + Nobody knows and nobody cares.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">The body that lies buried here<br /> + By lightning fell, death's sacrifice,<br /> + To him Elijah's fate was given<br /> + He rode on flames of fire to heaven.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">Stay, reader, drop upon this stone<br /> + One pitying tear and then be gone:<br /> + A handsome pile of flesh and blood<br /> + Is here sunk down in its first mud.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">I was somebody—who? is no business of yours.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg8">My wife from me departed<br /> + And robbed me like a knave;<br /> + Which caused me broken hearted<br /> + To sink into this grave.<br /> + My children took an active part,<br /> + To doom me did contrive;<br /> + Which stuck a dagger in my heart<br /> + That I could not survive.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">Pious.</p> + + + <p class="marg9">Open thine eyes Lord<br /> + I come! I come!</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="center">Sacred to the memory of three twins.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">My glass is run; yours is running.<br /> + Remember death and judgment coming.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">This stone was got to keep this lot.<br /> + Her father bought. Dig not too near.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Grim death took little Jerry,<br /> + The son of Joseph and Sereno Howells,<br /> + Seven days he wrestled with the dysentery<br /> + And then he perished in his little bowels.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Newfane</font></p>. + + <p class="marg7">Oh, little Lavina she has gone<br /> + To James and Charles and Eliza Ann.<br /> + Arm in arm they walk above<br /> + Singing the Redeemer's love.</p> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + + +<h3>MASSACHUSETTS.</h3> + + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Malden</font></p>. + +<p class="center">Phebe Sprague.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">In the sixteenth year of her age,<br /> + Natively quick and spry<br /> + As all young people be,<br /> + When God commands them down to dust,<br /> + How quick they drop you see.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Melrose</font></p>. + + <p class="marg8">When I am dead and in my grave<br /> + And all my bones are rotten,<br /> + If this you see, remember me,<br /> + Nor let me be forgotton.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Wendell</font></p>. + +<p class="center">Mary Hardy Goss Hill Sawin.</p> + + + <p class="marg1b">Orphan of affection and grief, adopted by aunt and grandsire, nurse of their hospital home.<br /> + Wife and widow of Dea John Hills.<br /> + Happy wife in rural home of Thomas Sawin eight years.<br /> + Often prisinor of calamity and pain.<br /> + Exhile of inherited melancholy fifteen years.<br /> + Patient waiter on decay and death.<br /> + Lover of all who love Jesus.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg7">Here lies the body of Samuel Proctor<br /> + Who lived and died without a doctor.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg6">Under these stones lies three children dear;<br /> + Two are burried at Taunton and I lie here.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Bromfield</font></p>. + + <p class="center">In memory of Stephen Pynchon.</p> + + + <p class="marg6">One truth is certain when this life is o'er,<br /> + Man dies to live and lives to die no more.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Marshfield</font></p>. + +<p class="center">Julia Webster Appleton.</p> + + +<p class="center">"Let me go for the day breaketh."</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Mt. Auburn</font></p>. + +<p class="center">"An eclipse at meridian."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">Here lies one John Witherbee,<br /> + A Boston gallant chap was he.<br /> + God had no use for such as he,<br /> + The devil rejected Witherbee.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies a man beneath this sod,<br /> + Who slandered all except his God,<br /> + And him he would have slandered too,<br /> + But that his God he never knew.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Plymouth</font></p>. + + <p class="marg5">Here lies the body of Thomas Vernon,<br /> + The only surviving son of Admiral Vernon.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Here lies the bones of Richard Lawton<br /> + Whose death alas! was strangely brought on.<br /> + Trying his corns one day to mow off.<br /> + His razor slipped and cut his toe off.<br /> + His toe or rather what it grew to,<br /> + An inflimation quickly flew to.<br /> + Which took alas! to mortifying<br /> + And was the cause of Richards dying.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Harvard</font></p>. + +<p class="center" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em" >Dea Lemuel Willard</p> + +<p class="center">Died in 1821</p> + + + <p class="marg7">When present useful, absent wanted<br /> + Lived respected, died lamented.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="center">Bishop Jewel</p> + + +<p class="center">He wrote learnedly, preached painfully, lived piously, died peacefully.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">John Safford.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Crushed as a moth beneath Thy hands<br /> + We moulder back to dust.<br /> + Our feeble frames cannot withstand<br /> + And all our beauty's lost.<br /> + This mortal life decays apace<br /> + How soon the bubble's broke.<br /> + Adam and all his numerous race<br /> + Are vanity and smoke.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="center">John Daby.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Tis but a few whole days amount<br /> + To three score years and ten;<br /> + And all beyond that short account<br /> + Is sorrow toil and pain.<br /> + Our vitals with laborious strife<br /> + Bear up the crazy load,<br /> + And drag these poor remains of life<br /> + Along the toilsome road.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Boston</font></p>. (Granary Burying Ground.) + + <p class="marg8">Here I lie bereft of breath<br /> + Because a cough carried me off;<br /> + Then a coffin they carried me off in.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Dorchester</font></p>. + + <p class="marg4">This world's a city, full of crooked streets;<br /> + And Death the market place where all men meets.<br /> + If life were merchandize that men could buy<br /> + The rich would live and none but poor would die.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg1">Of pneumonia supervening consumption complicated with other diseases, +the main symptom of which was insanity.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg4">Submit, submitted to her heavenly King<br /> + Being a flower of the etheral Spring—<br /> + Near three years old she died—In Heaven to wait<br /> + The year was sixteen hundred forty eight.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Rowley</font></p>. + +<p class="center">Ezekiel Rogers, Minister<br /> + +Died in 1660.</p> + + +<p class="marg1">With the youth he took great pains, and was a tree of knowledge laden +with fruit which the children could reach.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg1">Epitaph of Rev. Jonathan Mitchel, pastor of the first church in +Cambridge. Died July 9, 1668.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Here lies the darling of his time<br /> + Mitchel expired in his prime.<br /> + Who four years short of forty seven<br /> + Was found full ripe and plucked for Heaven.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">South Dennis</font></p>. + + <p class="marg4">Of seven sons the Lord his father gave,<br /> + He was the fourth who found a watery grave.<br /> + Fifteen days had passed since the circumstance occurred,<br /> + When his body was found and decently interred.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Vineyard Haven</font></p>. + + <p class="marg7">John and Lydia, that blooming pair,<br /> + A whale killed him and her body lies here.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Chatham</font></p>. + + <p class="marg8">There were three brothers went to sea<br /> + Who were never known to wrangle<br /> + Holmes Hole—cedar pole<br /> + Crinkle, crinkle crangle.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="marg1">Three brothers started for Holmes Hole in an open boat for cedar poles, +and on the passage were killed by lightning, represented by the +<i>crinkle, crinkle, crangle</i>.</p> + + + + <p class="marg7">Time was I stood as thou doest now<br /> + And viewed the dead as thou doest me.<br /> + E'er long thou'l lie as low as I<br /> + And others stand to look on thee.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Norton</font></p>. + +<p class="center">A blacksmith's epitaph composed by himself.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">My sledge and hammer lie reclined,<br /> + My bellows too have lost their wind,<br /> + My fire's extinct, my forge decayed,<br /> + And in the dust my vice is laid.<br /> + My iron spent, my coal is gone,<br /> + My nails are drove—my work is done.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Brockton</font></p>. + + <p class="marg8">Indulgent world I bid adieu.<br /> + Farewell, dear friends, farewell to you.<br /> + No more kindness can I show,<br /> + To any creature here below.<br /> + I am invited to my tomb,<br /> + To sleep awhile till Jesus come.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Wayland</font></p>. + + <p class="marg7">Here lies the body of Dr Hayward,<br /> + A man who never voted.<br /> + Of such is the kingdom of Heaven.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Chelsea</font></p>. + +<p class="center">Agreeable to the memory of<br /> +Mrs Alinda Tewksbury.<br /> +She was not a beleiver in the Christian idolitry.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">East Wareham</font></p>. + +<p class="center">Erected by the creditors of a bachelor Irishman.</p> + + + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Hibernia's son himself exiled,<br /> + Without an inmate, wife or child,</p> + + <p class="marg7" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">He lived alone.</p> + + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">And when he died, his purse, though small,<br /> + Contained enough to pay us all,</p> + + <p class="marg7">And buy this stone.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">Rebecca Nourse<br /> +Yarmouth Eng 1621<br /> +Salem Mass 1692</p> + + +<p class="marg1bb">Accused of witchcraft she declared "I am innocent and God will clear my +innocency." Once acquitted yet falsely condemned she suffered death July +19th, 1692.</p> + + + + <p class="marg6">O Christian Martyr who for truth could die,<br /> + When all about thee owned the hideous lie<br /> + The world redeemed from superstition's sway,<br /> + Is breathing freer for thy sake to-day.</p> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + + +<h3>CONNECTICUT.</h3> + + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">New Haven.</font></p> + +<p class="center">Composed by the deceased.<br /> +Partridge Thacher.</p> + + +<p class="indent">Rest here, my body, till the Archangel's voice more sonorous far than +nine fold thunder, wakes the sleeping dead; then rise to thy just sphere +and be my house immortal.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="center">On a babe four days old.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Since I so very soon was done for<br /> + I wonder what I was begun for.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Here lies the body of Obadiah Wilkinson</p> + + <p class="marg7" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">And Ruth, his wife.</p> + + <p class="marg6">Their warfare is accomplished.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Franklin White.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Here lies Frank a shining light<br /> + Whose name, life, actions all were white.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Reader pass on. Don't waste your time<br /> + On bad biography and bitter rhyme.<br /> + For what I am this crumbling clay assures,<br /> + And what I was is no affair of yours.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">God works a wonder now and then,<br /> + He though a lawyer was an honest man.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Dr. Somerby.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">At length a grave spots for him provided,<br /> + Where all through him so many of us died did.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Early, bright, chaste as morning dew,<br /> + She sparkled, was exalted and went to heaven.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Norfolk.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Lieut. Nathan Davis.<br /> + + Died in 1781.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Death is a debt that's justly due,<br /> + That I have paid and so must you.</p> +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Elizabeth, wife of Nathan Davis.<br /> + + Died 1786.</p> + + + <p class="marg8">This debt I owe is justly due,<br /> + And I am come to sleep with you.</p> + + + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>NEW YORK.</h3> + + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Skaneateles.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">Underneath this pile of stones<br /> + Lie's all thats left of Sally Jones.<br /> + Her name was Lord it was not Jones.<br /> + But Jones was used to ryme with stones.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Mary Drummond Smith.</p> + + + <p class="marg8">Neuralgia worked on Mrs. Smith<br /> + 'Till neath the sod it laid her.<br /> + She was a worthy Methodist<br /> + And served as a crusader.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Wyoming County.</font></p> + + <p class="marg8">She was in health at 11.30 <font style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc" face="Modern No. 20">a. m.</font><br /> + And left for Heaven at 3.30 <font style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc" face="Modern No. 20">p. m.</font></p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">East Thompson.</font></p> + +<p class="indent">Here lies one who never sacrificed his reason to superstitious God, nor +ever believed that Jonah swallowed the whale.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">New York City.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Trinity Churchyard.<br /> + + 1767.</p> + + + <p class="marg6">Tho' Boreas' blasts and boisterous waves<br /> + Have tossed me to and fro,<br /> + In spite of both by God's decree<br /> + I harbor here below;<br /> + Where I do now at anchor ride<br /> + With many of our fleet,<br /> + Yet once again I must set sail,<br /> + My Admiral Christ to meet.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="center">Alden White.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">Grim death took me without any warning,<br /> + I was well one day, and stone dead next morning.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="center">Madeline White.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">God takes the good too good on earth to stay,<br /> + God leaves the bad too bad to take away.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg6">Sarah Thomas is dead and that's enough<br /> + The candle is out and so is the snuff<br /> + Her soul is in Heaven you need not fear<br /> + And all that's left is buried here.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Ithaca.</font></p> + + <p class="marg4">The pale consumption gave the mortal blow.<br /> + The fate was certain although the event was slow.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">While on earth my knee was lame,<br /> + I had to nurse and heed it.<br /> + But now I'm at a better place,<br /> + Where I don't even need it.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Her blooming cheeks were no defence<br /> + Against the scarlet fever.<br /> + In five day's time she was cut down,<br /> + To dwell with Christ forever.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Moses White.</p> + + + <p class="center">His grand excellence was that he was genuine.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg9">Father and Mother and I<br /> + Choose to be buried asunder.<br /> + Father and Mother here,<br /> + And I buried yonder.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Julia King.</p> + + + <p class="center">I go to meet my brother.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">John Dale<br /> + + and his two wives.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">A period's come to all their toilsome lives,<br /> + The good man's quiet—still are both his wives.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Greenwood.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">Grieve not for me my Harriet dear<br /> + For I am better off,<br /> + You know what were my sufferings<br /> + And what a dreadful cough.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">David Stuart</p> + + + <p class="marg8">A loving father and companion,<br /> + Follow me as I have—Jesus.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Orange County.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">Underneath this stone doeth lie<br /> + As much virtue as could die;<br /> + Which when alive did vigor give<br /> + To as much of beauty as could live.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Amos Judge<br /> + + (Coal dealer.)</p> + + + <p class="marg7">He gave full weight to all t'is said<br /> + And did it without vaunting;<br /> + When in the ballance he is weighed<br /> + He will not be found wanting.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">William Newhall.</p> + + + <p class="marg8">He 'rose in health at early dawn<br /> + To hail the new born year:<br /> + Before the evening shade came on<br /> + He finished his career.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">He was a man of invention great<br /> + Above all who he lived nigh;<br /> + But he could not invent to live<br /> + When God called him to die.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">A thousand ways cut short our days,<br /> + None are exempt from death.<br /> + A honey-bee by stinging me<br /> + Did stop my mortal breath.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">He got a fish bone in his throat<br /> + And then he sang an angel's note.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Orange County.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">Here lies a kind and loving wife,<br /> + A tender nursing mother;<br /> + A neighbor free from brawl and strife,<br /> + A pattern for all others.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">To the memory of<br /> + Susan Mum.</p> + + + <p class="center"> Silence is wisdom.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="center">This corpse<br /> + is<br /> + Phebe Thorps.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Neal Keven.</p> + + + <p class="center">His accounts were found square to a cent.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">A Watch-maker's Epitaph</p> + + +<p>Copied from a tomb-stone in Wales by old Sexton Brown, the once famous +sexton of Grace Church, N. Y.</p> + + +<p class="marg1">Here lies in a horizontal position the outside case of George Rutlege +watch-maker, whose abilities in that line were an honor to his +profession.</p> +<p class="marg1">Integrity was the main-spring of all the actions of his life. Humane, +honest and industrious his hands never stopped until they had relieved +distress.</p> +<p class="marg1">He had the art of disposing of his time in such a way that he never went +wrong except when set agoing by persons who did not know his key, and +even then was easily set right again.</p> +<p class="marg1">He departed this life wound up in the hope of being taken in hand by his +Maker, thoroughly cleaned, regulated and repaired and set going in the +world to come.</p> + + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<h3>IN THE SOUTH.</h3> + + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Philadelphia.</font></p> Christ's Churchyard. + +<p class="marg1">(Written by himself when twenty-three years of age.)</p> +<p class="marg1">The body of Benjamen Franklin, printer like the cover of an old book its +contents torn out and stripped of its lettering and gilding, lies here +food for worms.</p> +<p class="marg1">Yet the work itself shall not be lost for it will, as he believed, +appear once more in a new and more beautiful edition corrected and +amended by the author.</p> +<br /><br /> + + +<p class="indent">Carved on a little stone in a Maryland churchyard, after the name of the +dead.</p> +<p class="center">"He held the pall at the funeral of Shakspeare."</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Bayfield, Miss.</font></p> + + <p class="center">(On a child struck by lightning.)</p> +<p class="center"> Struck by thunder.</p> + + + + <p class="marg7">Stranger pause my tale attend,<br /> + And learn the cause of Hannah's end.<br /> + Across the world the wind did blow,<br /> + She ketched a cold that laid her low.<br /> + We shed a lot of tears 'tis true,<br /> + But life is short—aged 82.</p> + + + + <p class="marg7">Here lies my wife in earthly mould,<br /> + Who when she lived did naught but scold.<br /> + Peace! wake her not, for now she's still,<br /> + She had; but now I have my will.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Alexandria, Va.</font></p> + +<p class="indent">To the memory of a female stranger whoes mortal sufferings ended Oct. +14th 1816.</p> + + + <p class="marg4">How valued, how loved once, avails thee not<br /> + To whom related, or by whom begot.<br /> + A heap of dust alone remains of thee,<br /> + Tis all thou art and all the proud shall be.</p> +<br /><br /> + + + <p class="marg9">Peter Letig was his name,<br /> + Heaven I hope his station,<br /> + Baltimore was his dwelling place<br /> + And Christ is his salvation.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg3" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">The milk of human kindness was my own dear cherub wife<br /> + I'll never find another one as good in all my life.</p> + + <p class="marg4">She bloomed, she blossomed, she decayed,<br /> + And under this tree her body we laid.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="indent">Mr. James Danner, late of Louisville, having been laid by the side of +his four wives, received this touching epitaph:</p> + + + <p class="marg3b" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">An excellent husband was this Mr. Danner,<br /> + He lived in a thoroughly honorable manner.</p> + + <p class="marg5" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">He may have had troubles,<br /> + But they burst like bubbles,</p> + + <p class="marg3b">He's at peace, now with Mary, Jane, Susan and Hannah.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Maryland.</font></p> + + <p class="marg5">Henrietta thou was mild and lovely,<br /> + Gentle as a summer breeze;<br /> + Pleasant as the air of evening,<br /> + When it floats among the trees.<br /> + With triumph on her tongue<br /> + With radiance on her brow,<br /> + She passed to that exalted throng<br /> + And shares their glory now.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">They were two loving sisters,<br /> + Who in this dust do lie.<br /> + The very day Annie was buried<br /> + Elizabeth did die.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg3">My father and mother were both insane<br /> + I inherited the terrible stain.<br /> + My grandfather, grandmother, aunts and uncles<br /> + Were lunatics all, and yet died of carbuncles.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Here lies the bones of David Jones,<br /> + Laid both dead and dumb.<br /> + He read a law and plead a cause<br /> + But died from drinking rum.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Over the grave of a brave engineer.</p> + + + <p class="marg6">Until the brakes are turned on time,<br /> + Life's throttle-valve shut down,<br /> + He works to pilot in the crew<br /> + That wears the martyr's crown.<br /> + On schedule time, on upper grade<br /> + Along the homeward section,<br /> + He lands his train in God's roundhouse<br /> + The morn of resurrection.<br /> + His time is full, no wages docked,<br /> + His name on God's pay roll,<br /> + And transportation through to Heaven<br /> + A free pass for his soul.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Elizabeth Scott lies buried here.<br /> + She was born Nov 20th 1785,<br /> + according to the best of her recollection.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Tennessee.</font></p> + +<p class="indent">She lived a life of virtue and died of the cholera morbus, caused by +eating green fruit in hope of a blessed immortality.</p> +<p class="indent">Reader, go thou and do likewise.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="indent">Sacred to the memory of Henry Harris who died from a kick by a colt in +his bowells.</p> +<p class="indent">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.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies my twins as dead as nits<br /> + One died of fever the other of fits.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg6">Some have children others none,<br /> + Here lies the mother of twenty one.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Yazoo City.</font></p> + + <p class="marg6">Here lie two grandsons of<br /> + John Hancock, first signer of the<br /> + Declaration of Independence.<br /> + (Their names are respectively Geo. M.<br /> + and John H. Hancock)<br /> + and their eminence hangs on<br /> + their having had a grandfather.</p> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + + +<h3>UNLOCATED.</h3> + + <p class="marg7" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Beneath this stone, a lump of clay,</p> + <p class="marg9" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Lies Arabella Young,</p> + <p class="marg7" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Who on the twenty first of May</p> + <p class="marg9">Began to hold her tongue.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg2">Ebenezer Dockwood aged forty seven,<br /> + A miser and a hypocrite and never went to Heaven.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Within this grave do lie.<br /> + Back to back my wife and I.<br /> + When the last trump the air shall fill,<br /> + If she gets up I'll just lie still.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">Mammy and I together lived,<br /> + Just three years and a half.<br /> + She went first, I followed next,<br /> + The cow before the calf.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="indent">A man had cremated four wives, and the ashes, kept in four urns, being +overturned and fallen together, were buried at last and had this droll +inscription:</p> + + + <p class="marg3c">Stranger pause and shed a tear,<br /> + For Mary Jane lies buried here.<br /> + Mingled in a most surprising manner<br /> + With Susan, Marie and portions of Hannah.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Sacred to the memory<br /> + Of Miss Martha Grimm.<br /> + She was so very spare within,<br /> + She burst the outward shell of sin<br /> + And hatched herself a cherubim.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">No doctor ever physicked me,<br /> + Was never near my side.<br /> + But when fever came I thought of the name,<br /> + And that was enough—I died.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg3b">This is to the memory of Ellen Hill,<br /> + A woman who would always have her will.<br /> + She snubbed her husband but she made good bread<br /> + Yet on the whole he's rather glad she's dead.<br /> + She whipped her children and she drank her gin,<br /> + Whipped virtue out and whipped the devil in.<br /> + May all such women go to some great fold<br /> + Where they through all eternity may scold.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg1">Sacred to the memory of William Skaradon who came to his death by being +shot with a Colts revolver, one of the old kind brass mounted and of +such is the kingdom of heaven.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="center">Timothy Egan</p> + + + <p class="marg7">He heard the angels calling him,<br /> + From the celestial shore.<br /> + He flopped his wings and away he flew<br /> + To make one angel more.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies the body of Mary Ford<br /> + We hope her soul is with the Lord.<br /> + But if for tophet she's changed this life,<br /> + Better be there than J. Ford's wife.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">A zealous locksmith died of late,<br /> + And did not enter Heaven's gate.<br /> + But stood without and would not knock<br /> + Because he meant to pick the lock.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Ashes to ashes dust to dust,<br /> + Here lies George Emery I trust.<br /> + And when the trump blows louder and louder<br /> + He'll rise a box of Emery powder.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg5">There was a man who died of late,<br /> + Whom angels did impatient wait<br /> + With outstretched arms and smiles of love<br /> + To take him up to the realms above.<br /> + While hovering 'round the lower skies<br /> + Still disputing for the prize,<br /> + The devil slipped in like a weasil<br /> + And down to Hell he took old Kezle.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies interred Priscilla Bird<br /> + Who sang on earth till sixty two.<br /> + Now up on high above the sky<br /> + No doubt she sings like sixty—too.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Here lies Jane Smith,<br /> + Wife of Thomas Smith, Marble Cutter.</p> + + +<p class="marg1">This monument was erected by her husband as a tribute to her memory and +a specimen of his work.</p> +<p class="marg1">Monuments of this same style are two hundred and fifty dollars.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">A Cricket Player's Epitaph.</p> + + + <p class="marg3c">In the pride of his manhood he heard the last call,<br /> + Though first in the field where his feet pressed the sod.<br /> + He hath gained his last wicket and thrown his last ball,<br /> + To join in the choir 'round the throne of his God.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies the body of Susan Lowder<br /> + Who burst while drinking a <i>Sedlit</i> powder.<br /> + Called from this world to her heavenly rest<br /> + She should have waited till it effervesced.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">A man of letters it seems was he;<br /> + The college made him L.L. D.<br /> + The Order a P. G. W. C.<br /> + Grim death has given him the G. B.<br /> + And may his ashes R. I. P.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">After cremation.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">And this is all that's left of thee<br /> + Thou fairest of earth's daughters.<br /> + Only four pounds of ashes white<br /> + Out of two hundred and three quarters.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg1">James Payn, the novelist, speaks of this epitaph as "pathetic and +expressive."</p> + + + <p class="marg3c">Here lies an old woman who always was tired,<br /> + For she lived in a house where help was not hired;<br /> + And her last words on earth were,<br /> + Dear friends I am going<br /> + Where no washing is done nor sweeping or sewing.<br /> + Where all things will be exact to my wishes,<br /> + For where there's no eating there's no washing of dishes.<br /> + I'll be where loud anthems are constantly ringing<br /> + But having no voice I shall get clear of singing.<br /> + She folded her hands with her latest endeavor<br /> + And sighing she whispered sweet nothing forever.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Alpha White<br /> + Weight 309 lbs.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Open wide ye golden gates<br /> + That lead to the heavenly shore.<br /> + Our father suffered in passing through<br /> + And mother weighs much more.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg7">The winter snow congealed his form<br /> + But now we know our Uncle's warm.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">Our papa dear has gone to Heaven<br /> + To make arrangements for eleven.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Epitaph on a dentist.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">View this gravestone with gravity<br /> + He is filling his last cavity.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies Dodge, who dodged all good<br /> + And dodged a deal of evil.<br /> + But after dodging all he could<br /> + He could not dodge the devil.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">On the tombstone of a disagreeable old man.</p> +<p class="center"> "Deeply regretted by all who never knew him."</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg7">Here lies Jim Shaw, attorney-at-law.<br /> + When he died the devil cried,<br /> + Give me your paw, Jim Shaw,<br /> + Attorney at law.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Here lies my wife a sad slatterned shrew<br /> + If I said I regretted her I should lie too.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">Here lies Ann Mann.<br /> + She lived an old maid<br /> + But died an old Mann.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg5">Here lies Ned Hyde because he died.<br /> + If it had been his sister<br /> + We should not have missed her.<br /> + But would rather it had been his father<br /> + Or for the good of the nation<br /> + The whole generation.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">On a well-known pill doctor.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">His virtues and his pills are so well known<br /> + That envy can't confine them under stone.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Throughout his life he kneaded bread<br /> + And deemed it quite a bore.<br /> + But now six feet beneath earth's crust<br /> + He needeth bread no more.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Listen, Mother, Aunt and me<br /> + Were killed, here we be.<br /> + We should not had time to missle<br /> + Had they blown the engine whistle.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Here lies the remains of<br /> + John Hall grocer.</p> + + + <p class="marg8">The world is not worth a fig<br /> + I have good <i>raisins</i> for saying so.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">Amanda Lowe.</p> + + +<p class="marg1">She loved me and my grandchildren reverenced her. She bathed my feet and +kept my socks well darned.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">A bird, a man, a loaded gun.<br /> + No bird, dead man, thy will be done.</p> + + + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>IN FOREIGN COUNTRIES.</h3> + + +<p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">At St. Mary le Bone.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Queen Elizabeth.</p> +<p class="center"> (By Laureate Skelton.)</p> + + + <p class="marg5">Fame blow aloud, and to the world proclaim,<br /> + There never ruled such a royal dame!<br /> + The word of God was ever her delight,<br /> + In it she meditated day and night.<br /> + Spain's rod, Rome's ruin, Netherland's relief,<br /> + Earth's joy, England's gem, world's wonder,<br /> + Nature's chief.<br /> + She was and is, what can there more be said,<br /> + On earth the chief, in Heaven the second made.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">In Harrow Churchyard.</font></p> + + <p class="center">(Ascribed to Lord Byron.)</p> + + + <p class="marg5">Beneath these green trees rising to the skies,<br /> + The planter of them, Isaac Greentree lies!<br /> + A time shall come when these green trees shall fall,<br /> + And Isaac Greentree rise above them all.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Surrey, England.</font></p> + + <p class="marg5" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">The Lord was good I was lopping off wood</p> + <p class="marg7" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">And down fell from a tree.</p> + <p class="marg5" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">I met with a check that broke my neck</p> + <p class="marg7">And so God lopped off me.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg1">Here lies John Higley whose father and mother were drowned in their +passage from America. Had they both lived they would have been buried +here.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Aberdeen, Scotland.</font></p> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies Martin Elmrod.<br /> + Have mercy on my soul, good God<br /> + As I would do were I Lord God<br /> + And you were Martin Elmrod.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg8">Here lies Thomas Smith<br /> + And what is somewhat rareish,<br /> + He was born bred and hanged<br /> + In this e'er parish.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Here I lie at the chancel door<br /> + And I lie here because I am poor;<br /> + For the farther in the more you pay,<br /> + But here I lie as warm as they.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Pickering Churchyard.</font></p> + + <p class="marg3c">Death comes to all, none can resist his dart<br /> + At his command the dearest friends must part.<br /> + A mournful widow who this truth doth own<br /> + In gratitude erects this humble stone.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Childwell, England.</font></p> + + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Here lies the body of</p> + + <p class="marg9" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">John Smith.</p> + + <p class="marg6">Buried in the cloisters<br /> + If he don't jump at the last trump,<br /> + Call, Oysters!</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">England.</font></p> + + <p class="marg3c">If Heaven be pleased when sinners cease to sin,<br /> + If Hell be pleased when sinners enter in,<br /> + If earth be pleased when ridded of a knave,<br /> + Then all are pleased for Coleman's in his grave.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg1">Samuel Gardner was blind in one eye and in a moment of confusion he +stepped out of a receiving and discharging door in one of the warehouses +into the ineffable glories of the celestial sphere.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="marg3c" style="text-indent: -1.5em;">To the memory of Ric Richards who by a gangrene first lost a toe, then a +leg and lastly his life.</p> + + <p class="marg2">Ah cruel Death to make three meals of one,<br /> + To taste and eat, and eat till all was gone.<br /> + But know thou tyrant when the trump shall call,<br /> + He'll find his feet, and stand where thou shalt fall.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Poet & Shoemaker.<br /> + Joseph Blackett.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">Stranger behold interred together<br /> + The lords of learning and of leather.<br /> + Poor Joe is gone but left his <i>awl</i><br /> + You'll find his relics in a stall.<br /> + His works were neat and often found<br /> + Well stitched and with morocco bound.<br /> + Tread lightly where the bard is laid;<br /> + He cannot mend the shoe he made.<br /> + Yet he is happy in his hole<br /> + With verse immortal as his soul;<br /> + But still to business he held fast<br /> + And stuck to Pheabus to the <i>last</i>.<br /> + Then who shall say so good a fellow<br /> + Was only leather and prunello?<br /> + For character he did not lack it<br /> + And if he did't were shame to Blackett.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg2">Poor Betty Conway, she drank lemonade at a masquerade,<br /> + So now she's dead and gone away.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Robert Master, Undertaker.</p> + + + <p class="marg4">Here lies Bob Master. Faith! t'was very hard<br /> + To take away an honest Robin's breath.<br /> + Yes, surely Robin was full well prepared<br /> + For he was always looking out for death.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="indent">Taken from "The Lady's Magazine and Musical Repository," Jan., 1801.</p> +<p class="center">Epitaph on a Bird.</p> + + +<p class="marg1">Here lieth, aged three months the body of Richard Acanthus a young +person of unblemished character. He was taken in his callow infancy from +the wing of a tender parent by the rough and pitiless hand of a +two-legged animal without feathers.</p> +<p class="marg1">Though born with the most aspiring disposition and unbending love of +freedom he was closely confined in a grated prison and scarcely +permitted to view those fields of which he had an undoubted charter.</p> +<p class="marg1">Deeply sensible of this infringement of his natural rights he was often +heard to petition for redress in the most plaintive notes of harmonious +sorrow. At length his imprisoned soul burst the prison which his body +could not and left a lifeless heap of beauteous feathers.</p> +<p class="marg1">If suffering innocence can hope for retribution, deny not to the gentle +shade of this unfortunate captive the humble though uncertain hope of +animating some happier form; or trying his new fledged pinions in some +happy elysium, beyond the reach of</p> + + <p class="center"><i>Man</i></p> + +<p style="text-indent: 1em;">the tyrant of this lower world.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">On three children.</p> + + + <p class="marg3b">"Who plucked my choicest flowers?" the gardener cried<br /> + "The Master did," a well known voice replied.<br /> + "'Tis well they are all his" the gardener said,<br /> + And meekly bowed his reverential head.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Beneath this stone in sound repose<br /> + Lies William Rich of Lydeard Close.<br /> + Eight wives he had yet none survive<br /> + And likewise children eight times five,<br /> + From whom an issue vast did pour<br /> + Of great grandchildren five times four.<br /> + Rich born, rich bred, yet Fate adverse<br /> + His wealth and fortune did reverse.<br /> + He lived and died immensely poor<br /> + July the tenth aged ninety-four.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Ellington.</font></p> + +<p class="marg2">Here rest the remains of Alexander McKinstry.</p> + + +<p class="marg4">A kind husband, tender parent, dutiful son, affectionate brother, +faithful friend, generous master, and obliging neighbor. The house looks +desolate and mourns, every door groans doleful as it turns. The pillars +languish and each silent wall in grief laments the masters fall.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="center">Joseph Horton, Pedlar.</p> + + + <p class="marg6">I lodged have in many a town<br /> + And travelled many a year.<br /> + Till age and death have brought me down<br /> + To my last lodging here.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Falkirk, Eng.</font></p> + + <p class="marg4">Here lies the body of Robert Gordon,<br /> + Mouth almighty and teeth according.<br /> + Stranger tread lightly on this wonder,<br /> + If he opens his mouth you are gone to thunder.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg4">Here under this sod and under these trees<br /> + Is buried the body of Solomon Pease.<br /> + But here in this hole lies only his pod<br /> + His soul is shelled out and gone up to God.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="marg5">Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake,<br /> + Who died for peace and quietness sake.<br /> + His wife was constantly scolding and scoffing,<br /> + So he sought repose in a twelve dollar coffin.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">At rest beneath this slab of stone,<br /> + Lies stingy Jimmy Wyett.<br /> + He died one morning just at ten<br /> + And saved a dinner by it.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg3">Here lies the body of Sarah Sexton<br /> + She was a wife that never vexed one.<br /> + But I can't say as much for the one at the next stone.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg4">I Dionysius underneath this tomb<br /> + Some sixty years of age have reached my doom.<br /> + Ne'er having married, think it sad,<br /> + And I wish my father never had.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5">Underneath this marble hearse<br /> + Lies the subject of all verse;<br /> + Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother.<br /> + Death ere thou hast slain another<br /> + Wise and fair and good as she<br /> + Time shall throw a dart at thee.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Kent.</font></p> + + <p class="marg3">Here lies two brothers by misfortune surrounded;<br /> + One died of his wounds but the other was drownded.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Epitaph of Susan Blake.<br /> + Written by Sir Thomas Moore at her urgent entreaty.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Good Susan Blake in royal state<br /> + Arrived at last at Heaven's gate.</p> + + +<p class="marg1">(After an absence of years and having fallen out with her he added these +two lines.)</p> + + + <p class="marg7">"But Peter met her with a club<br /> + And knocked her back to Beelzebub."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Beneath this stone in hopes of Zion,<br /> + Doeth lay the landlord of the Lion.<br /> + His son keeps in the business still<br /> + Resigned unto His heavenly will.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg7">John Palfryman who is buried here<br /> + Was aged four and twenty years.<br /> + And near this place his Mother lies<br /> + Likewise his father when he dies.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Salisbury.</font></p> + + <p class="marg3c">Farewell vain world I've had enough of thee,<br /> + And value not what thou canst say of me;<br /> + Thy smiles I court not, nor thy frowns I fear,<br /> + All's one to me, my head lies quiet here;<br /> + What faults thou'st seen in me take care to shun<br /> + And look at home, there's something to be done</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg3">Like a tender rose-tree was my spouse to me.<br /> + Her offspring plucked too long deprived of life is she.<br /> + Three went before, her life went with the sixth:<br /> + I stay with the three our sorrows for to mix,<br /> + Till Christ our only hope our joys doth fix.</p> + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Shetford Churchyard.</font></p> + + <p class="marg1b">My grandfather was buried here,<br /> + My cousin Jane and two uncles, dear.<br /> + My father perished with inflammation of the eyes.<br /> + My sister dropped dead in a nunnery.<br /> + But the reason why I am here interred according to my thinking,<br /> + Is owing to my good living and hard drinking,<br /> + If therefore, good Christians, you wish to live long<br /> + Don't drink to much wine, brandy, gin, or any thing strong.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6">Beneath this monumental stone<br /> + Lies half a ton of flesh and bone.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Shakspeare.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Good friends for Jesus' sake forbear<br /> + To stir the dust enclosed here.<br /> + Blest be the man who spares these stones<br /> + And cursed be he who moves my bones.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Nova Scotia.</font></p> + + <p class="marg7">Here lies old twenty five per cent.<br /> + The more he had the more he lent.<br /> + The more he had the more he craved,<br /> + Great God, can his poor soul be saved?</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Mt. Park Cemetery, Montreal.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Fred McKernan, Aged three years.</p> + + + <p class="marg4">Johnie wants to know where do you now stay<br /> + Or with whom do you now play,<br /> + Or where do you roam?<br /> + For the little iron cot<br /> + Your poor mother bought<br /> + Still waits for you at home.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Folkstone.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Mrs David Stuart</p> + + + <p class="marg3b">For twenty years and eight I lived a maiden's life<br /> + And five and thirty years I was a married wife.<br /> + And in that space of time eight children I did bear,<br /> + Four sons, four daughters who I ever loved most dear;<br /> + Three of that number as the Scriptures run,<br /> + Preached up the way to Heaven—and Hell to shun.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">Maiden Lillard,</p> + + +<p class="indent">A young Scotch woman, who at the battle of Ancrum, 1545, distinguished +herself by her extraordinary valor.</p> + + + <p class="marg2">Fair Maiden Lillard lies under this sod.<br /> + Little was her statue but great was her fame.<br /> + Upon the English loons she laid many thumps,<br /> + And when her legs were cut off she fought upon her stumps.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg3b">Here lies a man who all his mortal life<br /> + Spent mending clocks, but could not mend his wife.<br /> + The larum of his bell was ne'er so shrill<br /> + As was her tongue, aye, clacking like a mill.<br /> + But now he's gone—oh whither none can tell<br /> + But hope beyond the sound of Matty's bell.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Paris.</font></p> + + <p class="center">Adah Isaac Menkin.</p> +<p class="center"> "Thou knowest."</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">Lord Byron's epitaph on his Newfoundland dog at Newstead.</p> + + + <p class="marg8">"To mark a friend's remains<br /> + These stones arise.<br /> + I never knew but one<br /> + And here he lies."</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">Manchester, England.</font></p> + + <p class="marg6">Here lies John Hill, a man of skill,<br /> + His age was five times ten.<br /> + He ne'er did good nor ever would<br /> + Had he lived as long again.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg5" style="text-indent: -1.5em; margin-bottom: -1.0em">Beneath these stones repose the bones of Theodosious Grimm.</p><br /> + <p class="marg5" style="text-indent: -1.5em; margin-bottom: -1.0em">He took his beer from year to year</p> + <p class="marg5" style="text-indent: -1.5em;">And then the bier took him.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="center">(On a butcher whose name was Lamb.)</p> + + + <p class="marg6">Beneath this stone lies Lamb asleep,<br /> + Who died a Lamb who lived a sheep.<br /> + Many a lamb and sheep he slaughtered<br /> + But cruel Death the scene has altered.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center">Rose Clifford.</p> +<p class="center">This tomb doth here enclose the world's most beauteous Rose.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Here lies John Quebecca<br /> + precentor to My Lord the King.</p> + + +<p class="indent">When he is admitted to the choir of angels whose society he will +embellish and where he will distinguish himself by his powers of +song—God shall say to the angels—</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Cease ye calves! and let me hear<br /> + John Quebecca, the precentor of<br /> + My Lord the King.</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">St. Botolph's.</font></p> + + <p class="marg6">A traveller lies here at rest<br /> + Who life's rough ocean tossed on.<br /> + His many virtues all expressed<br /> + Thus simply—"<i>I'm from Boston</i>."</p> + + + + +<br /><br /><p style= "font-weight: 300; font-size: 1.25em" class="sc"><font face="Modern No. 20">St. Clair, Canada.</font></p> + + <p class="center">On a brickmaker.</p> + + + <p class="marg5">Keep death and judgment always in your eye<br /> + Or else the devil off with you will fly<br /> + And in his kiln with burning brimstone ever fry.<br /> + If you neglect the narrow road to seek<br /> + Christ will respect you like a half burned brick.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Patrick Bay, Innholder.</p> + + + <p class="marg7">Killed by an ignorant Physician.<br /> + Not Fate or Death but doctor Rowe<br /> + Advanced to give the deadly blow<br /> + That smote me to the shades below.<br /> + Had Death alone approached too nigh,<br /> + Had Fate or Nature bid me die,<br /> + I must have borne it patiently.</p> +<p class="marg7"> But to be robbed of life and ease<br /> + By such infernal quacks as these<br /> + And pay, beside their modest fees!<br /> + Now folks that travel by this way,<br /> + Pointing toward my tomb shall say,<br /> + "There lies the bones of Patrick Bay—<br /> + Who ne'er a cheerful glass denied,<br /> + All force of arms, and grog defied,<br /> + Yet by a vile Jack Pudding died."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">John Scott<br /> + Brewer.</p> + + + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Poor John Scott is buried here</p> + <p class="marg8" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Tho' once he was both hale and stout.</p> + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Death stretched him on his bitter bier,</p> + <p class="marg8">In another world he hops about.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="center">Received of Philip Harding<br /> + his borrowed earth July 4th 1673.</p> + + +<br /><br /> + <p class="center">The Duke of Norfolk, a great whist player.</p> +<p class="center"> (By Sheridan.)</p> + + + <p class="marg8">Here lies England's premier baron,<br /> + Patiently awaiting the last trump.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Here lies a Cardinal who wrought</p> + <p class="marg8" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">Both good and evil in his time.</p> + <p class="marg6" style="margin-bottom: -1.0em">The good he did was good for naught</p> + <p class="marg8">Not so the evil—that was prime.</p> +<br /><br /> + +<p class="indent">Elihu Yale, the founder of Yale College at New Haven, lies buried in +Wrenham, Wales. His monument bears this inscription:</p> + + + <p class="marg3">Born in America, in Europe bred<br /> + In Africa traveled in Asia wed,<br /> + Where long he lived and thrived<br /> + And at London died.<br /> + Much good, some ill he did so hope all's even<br /> + And his soul through mercy is gone to Heaven.<br /> + You that survive and read this tale take care,<br /> + For this most certain event to prepare;<br /> + Where blest in peace the actions of the just<br /> + Smell sweet and blossom in the silent dust.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Quaint Epitaphs, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUAINT EPITAPHS *** + +***** This file should be named 22518-h.htm or 22518-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/1/22518/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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