Friday, November 14, 2008

Epitaphs


For many years I've been a fan of cemeteries... it's interesting to just walk through and read the names and the epitaphs. Here are a few I've collected either in person or on the internet..
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On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in East Dalhousie Cemetery, Nova Scotia:
Here lies Ezekial Aikle
Age 102
The Good Die Young.
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In a London, England cemetery:
Ann Mann
Here lies Ann Mann,
Who lived an old maid
But died an old Mann.
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Dec. 8, 1767
In a Ribbesford, England, cemetery:
Anna Wallace
The children of Israel wanted bread
And the Lord sent them manna,
Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,
And the Devil sent him Anna.
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Playing with names in a Ruidoso, New Mexico, cemetery:
Here lies Johnny Yeast
Pardon me
For not rising.
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Memory of an accident in a Uniontown, Pennsylvania cemetery:
Here lies the body
of Jonathan Blake
Stepped on the gas
Instead of the brake.
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In a Silver City, Nevada, cemetery:
Here lays Butch,
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger,
But slow on the draw.
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A lawyer's epitaph in England:
Sir John Strange
Here lies an honest lawyer,
And that is Strange.
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Someone determined to be anonymous in Stowe, Vermont:
I was somebody.
Who, is no business
Of yours.
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Lester Moore was a Wells, Fargo Co. station agent for Naco, Arizona in the cowboy days of the 1880's. He's buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona:
Here lies Lester Moore
Four slugs from a .44
No Les No More.
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In a Georgia cemetery:
"I told you I was sick!"
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John Penny's epitaph in the Wimborne, England, cemetery:
Reader if cash thou art
In want of any
Dig 4 feet deep
And thou wilt find a Penny.
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On Margaret Daniels grave at Hollywood Cemetery Richmond, Virginia:
She always said her feet were killing her
but nobody believed her.
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In a cemetery in Hartscombe, England:
On the 22nd of June -
Jonathan Fiddle -
Went out of tune.
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Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that sounds like something from a Three Stooges movie:
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.
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More fun with names with Owen Moore in Battersea, London, England:
Gone away
Owin' more
Than he could pay.
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Someone in Winslow, Maine didn't like Mr. Wood:
In Memory of Beza Wood
Departed this life Nov. 2, 1837
Aged 45 yrs.
Here lies one Wood
Enclosed in wood
One Wood
Within another.
The outer wood
Is very good:
We cannot praise
The other.
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On a grave from the 1880's in Nantucket, Massachusetts:
Under the sod and under the trees
Lies the body of Jonathan Pease.
He is not here, there's only the pod:
Pease shelled out and went to God.
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The grave of Ellen Shannon in Girard, Pennsylvania is almost a consumer tip:
Who was fatally burned
March 21, 1870
by the explosion of a lamp
filled with "R.E. Danforth's
Non-Explosive Burning Fluid"
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Oops!
Harry Edsel Smith of Albany, New York:
Born 1903--Died 1942
Looked up the elevator shaft to see if
the car was on the way down. It was.
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In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery:
Here lies an Atheist
All dressed up
And no place to go.
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Remember friend as you walk by
As you are now so once was I
As I am now you will surely be
Prepare thyself to follow me.
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My glass is run, my life is spent,
My earthly temple was but lent
Why should I wish for length of years
To spend them in a vail of tears
Friends nor physicians could not save
My mortal body from the grave
Nor can the grave confine it here
When Christ doth call me to appear.
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I don't want to talk about it now.
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With Christ which is far better
who was victim of his own imprudence.
Drop a tear on his tomb and say,
if you please, a psalm 'out of the depths
I have cried unto Thee, O Lord,' for his soul.
He was only 27 years.
1798.
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When I am dead and in my grave,
and all my bones are rotten.
While reading this you'll think of me
when I am long forgotten!
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Here lies a miser who lived for himself,
who caredfor nothing but gathering wealth.
Now where he is and how he fares;
Its thinking and aching is o'er
His quiet immovable breast
Is beawed by afflictions no more.
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Alone we are born
And die alone;
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
Over snow-mountain shine.
Upon the upland road
Ride easy, stranger:
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger.
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Daughter of virtue!
Moist thy tear.
This tomb of love and honor claim;
For thy defense the husband here,
Laid down in his youth his life and fame.
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He heard her tale of matchless woe,
And burning for revenge he rose,
And laid her base seducer low,
And struck dismay to virtue's foes.
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Farewell friends and parents dear,
I am not dead, but sleeping here.
Prepare for death,
for die you must
And with your Laura, sleep in dust.
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Here lies the bodyOf Margaret Bent
She kicked up her heels
And away she went.
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'Tis but the unfolding of the scroll of life,
Another name appears and it is mine.
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All you that do behold my stone,
Consider how soon I was gone
Death does not always warning give
Therefore be cautious, how you live
Repent in time
no time delay
In my youth was called away
Hannah Churchill 11/06/1811 23 Years
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She failed her breathalizer test
now she lays with the best
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He Lived desired & died lamented
Halt passenger as you go past
Remember time it runneth fast
My dust in narrow bounds do ly
Remember man that thou must die
This dust revive it shall again
And in a grave no more remain
When trumpet Sounds
I shall be raised
For this Gods holy word hath said
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Here lies the landlord Tommy Dent
In his last cosy tenement.
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CALLED BACK
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Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake
Who died for peace and quietness sake;
His wife was constantly scolding and scoffin;
So he sought for repose in a twelve-dollar coffin.
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This stone was raised to Sarah Ford,
Not Sarah's virtues to record--
For they're well known to all the town--
No Lord; it was raised to keep her down.
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Once I wasn't
Then I was
Now I ain't again.
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Stop, reader, pray and read my gate
What caused my life to terminate
For thieves by night when in my bed
Broke in my house and shot me dead.
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Who died for the want of another breath
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36-33-01-24-17
Honey you dont know what you did for me,
always playing the lottery.
The numbers you picked came in to play,
two days after you passed away.
For this, a huge monument I do erect,
for now I get a yearly check.
How I wish you were alive,
for now we are worth 8.5
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Here lies old Rastus Sominy
Died a-eating hominy
In 1859 anno domini
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Here under the dung of the 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.
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1891
Shot in the back by a dirty rat
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Here Lieth W.W.
Who never more will
Trouble you, trouble you.
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At rest beneath this slab of stone
Lies stingy Jimmy Wyatt;
He died one morning just at ten,
And saved a dinner by it.

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