Quaint Epitaphs. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Here beneath these marble stones

      Sleeps the dust and rests the bones

      Of one who lived a Christian life

      T'was Haines's—Josiah's wife.

      She was a woman full of truth

      And feared God from early youth.

      And priests and elders did her fight

      Because she brought her deeds to light.

      Here lies a man never beat by a plan,

      Straight was his aim and sure of his game,

      Never was a lover but invented a revolver.

      My wife lies here.

      All my tears cannot bring her back;

      Therefore, I weep.

      Beneath this stone our baby lays

      He neither crys or hollers.

      He lived just one and twenty days,

      And cost us forty dollars.

      Charity wife of Gideon Bligh

      Underneath this stone doth lie

      Naught was she e'er known to do

      That her husband told her to.

      Here lies the wife of brother Thomas,

      Whom tyrant death has torn from us,

      Her husband never shed a tear,

      Until his wife was buried here.

      And then he made a fearful rout,

      For fear she might find her way out.

      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.

      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.

      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.

      Death loves a shining mark.

      In this case he had it.

      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 pass by;

      My thirteen children with me lie.

      See their faces how they shine

      Like blossoms on a fruitful vine.

      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,

      Nobody knows and nobody 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.

      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.

      Open thine eyes Lord

      I come! I come!

      My glass 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.

      Oh, little Lavina she has gone

      To James and Charles and Eliza Ann.

      Arm in arm they walk above

      Singing the Redeemer's love.