Safe lodg'd within his blanket, here below,
Lie the last relics of old Orono;
Worn down with toil and care, he in a trice
Exchang'd his wigwam for a paradise.
* * * * *
From St. Philip's Churchyard, Birmingham:
To the memory of James Baker, who died January 27th, 1781.
O cruel Death, how cou'd you be so unkind
To take him before and leave me behind?
You should have taken both of us, if either,
Which would have been more pleasing to the survivor.
* * * * *
Died, on the 14th inst., Henry Wilkins Glyn, aged 3 days and
7 hours. After a long and painful illness, which he bore with
Christian fortitude, this youthful martyr departed to his rest.
* * * * *
Here lies the body of Jonathan Stout.
He fell in the water and never got out,
And still is supposed to be floating about.
* * * * *
Here lies one Box within another;
The one of wood
Was very good;
We cannot say so much for t' other.
Epitaphs on Women.
An epitaph from an Irish graveyard:
Here lies the body of Lady O'Looney,
Grand-niece to Edmund Burke,
Commonly called "the sublime."
She was bland, passionate, and religious,
Also,
She painted in water-colors.
Also,
She sent several articles to the Exhibition.
She was first cousin to Lady Jones.
And of such is the kingdom of heaven.
Amen.
* * * * *
At St. Albans:
Sacred to the memory of Miss Martha Gwynn,
Who was so very pure within,
She burst the outer shell of sin,
And hatched herself a cherubim.
* * * * *
There is an epitaph of an eccentric character that may be seen on a
tombstone at the burying-grounds near Hoosick Falls, New York. It reads:
Ruth Sprague, Daughter of Gibson and Elizabeth Sprague. Died
June 11, 1846, aged 9 years, 4 months, and 3 days.
She was stolen from the grave by Roderick R. Clow, dissected at
Dr. P. M. Armstrong's office, in Hoosick, N. Y., from which place
her mutilated remains were obtained and deposited here.
Her body dissected by fiendish man,
Her bones anatomized,
Her soul, we trust, has risen to God,
Where few physicians rise.
* * * * *
Here lies the body of Sarah Sexton,
Who as a wife did never vex one.
We can't say that for her at the next stone.
* * * * *
Here lies the body of Ann Mann,
Who lived an old woman,
And died an old Mann.
* * * * *
Epitaph on Lady Molesworth. Burnt to death 6 May, 1763:
A peerless matron, pride of female life
In every state, as widow, maid, or wife;
Who wedded, to threescore preserved her fame,
She lived a phoenix, and expired in flame.
* * * * *
A Welsh husband thus sings above the grave of his better-half:
This spot is the sweetest I've seen in my life,
For it raises my flowers and covers my wife.
* * * * *
At Wolstanton: