Читать книгу Quaint Epitaphs - Various - Страница 2

Here lies the body of John Mound

Lost at sea and never found.

Here lies one Wood enclosed in wood,

One Wood within another.

The outer wood is very good,

We cannot praise the other.

The little hero that lies here

Was conquered by the diarrhœa.

Beneath this stone now dead to grief

Lies Grid the famous Wokag chief.

Pause here and think you learned prig,

This man was once an Indian big.

Consider this, ye lowly one,

This man was once a big in—jun.

Now he lies here, you too must rot,

As sure as pig shall go to pot.

Here Betsy Brown her body lies.

Her soul is flying in the skies.

While here on earth she oftimes spun

Six hundred skeins from sun to sun,

And wove one day, her daughter brags,

Two hundred pounds of carpet rags.

I lost my life in the raging seas

A sovereign God does as he please.

The Kittery friends did then appear,

And my remains they buried here.

We can but mourn our loss,

Though wretched was his life.

Death took him from the cross,

Erected by his wife.

Our life is but a Winter's day.

Some breakfast and away.

Others to dinner stay and are well fed.

The oldest sups and goes to bed.

Large is his debt who lingers out the day,

Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.

Accidentally shot as a mark of affection by his brother.

After life's fever, I sleep well.