The Jacana Library

Humour

 

 

Epitaphs



The thing we like most about Clive,

Is that he's no longer alive.

There's a lot to be said,

For being dead.

 

Beneath this mound Charles Crocker now reposes;
Step lightly, strangers - also hold your noses.
    - Ambrose Bierce.
 

Here lies my wife: so let her lie!
Now she’s at rest, and so am I!
    - John Dryden.
 

She sleeps alone at last.
    - Robert Banchley - Suggested epitaph for an actress.
 

Here lies the body of Ezra Pound,
Lost at sea and never was found.
    - Ezra Pound.
 

Here lies the body of Pavlov’s puppy,
Born stone deaf and got no suppy.
    - Steve Fitzsimmons (Ex-Maun)
 

Here lies the body of Lester Moore,
Three slugs from a forty-four,
No Les, no more.
    - Boot Hill cemetery, Tombstone, Arizona.
 

Life is a jest, and all things show it.
I thought so once; but now I know it.
    - John Gay, for his own tombstone.
 

Here lies a young author of no reputation,
Who lived by his pen, and thus died of starvation.
He forwards to Heaven a soul in dejection -
Enclosing a stamp for the usual rejection.
    - Lambert Jeffries.
 

I Would Rather Be Living In Philadelphia.
    - W.C. Fields, suggested epitaph for himself.
 

Beneath this slab
John Brown is stowed.
He watched the ads
And not the road.
    - Ogden Nash.
 

Stranger approach this spot with gravity:
John Birningham is filling his last cavity.
    - Anon (on dentist’s tomb)
 

God caught his eye.
    - David McCord, on waiter’s gravestone.
 

I TOLD YOU I WAS SICK.
 

Charlie was a Chemist,
but Charlie is no more.
What Charlie thought was H
20,
was H
2SO4.
 

Here lies Walter Dudley,
He found out too late,
Dobermans aren't cuddly.
 

Here lies Henry Blake,
He stepped on the gas
Instead of the brake.
 

Here lies the body of Edward Hyde,
We laid him here because he died.
 

The children of Israel wanted bread,
And the Lord sent them manna.
Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,
And the Devil sent him Anna.
 

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.
 

Here lies Johnny Yeast.
Pardon me
For not rising.
 

On the 22nd of June,
Jonathan Fiddle
Went out of tune.
 

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.
 

Here lies a man named Zeke.
Second fastest draw in Cripple Creek.
 

Here lies the body of Samuel Crane,
Who ran a race with a passenger train,
If only he'd thought to stop, look and listen,
He'd be living now instead of missin'.
 

Here I lie - Its no wonder I'm dead,
For the wheels of a semi rolled over my head.
 

Here lies the popular Kevin O'Toole,
He thought it was cool to smoke at school.
 

Here lies Moonshiner Fred,
Lit a cigar & now he's dead.
 

Here lies Melba June Doak,
Drowned when the outhouse planking broke.
 

Here lies the remains of Margaret Bent,
She kicked up her heels, and away she went.
 

Here lies good old Fred,
A great big rock fell on his head.
 

Here lies dear departed Dave,
He chased a bear into a cave.
 

Here lies Mr. I. B. Crisp,
Fixed the toaster with a knife.
Got the shock of his short life.
 

Here lies ex-spy Nathan Wood,
This time he's underground for good.
 

Here lies mangled Hiriam Brown,
Peered up the shaft to see
If the elevator was coming down.
It was.
 

Here lies our dear Ol' Pop,
Twasn't the fall that done him in,
But rather the sudden stop.
 

Here lies Myra Mains,
Gorgeous body but alas - no brains.
 

Here lies dearly departed Blanche,
She got run down by an avalanche.
 

Here lies beloved Uncle Jake,
Rode downstairs on a roller skate.
 

Here lies poor old Martin Hupp,
Tried crossing the bridge when the bridge was up.
 

Born of women,
Killed by lead,
He most likely had
Your wife in bed.
 

Little Willy in the best of sashes
Played with fire and was burnt to ashes
Very soon the room got chilly
But nobody like to poke poor Willy.
 

I was Carolina born
And Carolina bred
And I here I lay -
Carolina dead!
 

A victim of fast women and slow horses.
 

He was so brave,
He was so cute,
Until he forgot
His parachute.
 

Here lies all the remains of Charlotte,
Born a virgin, but died a harlot.
For sixteen years she kept her virginity,
A marvellous thing for this vicinity.
 

Owen Moore has passed away,
Owin' More than he could pay.
 

Here's to Johnny quite a guy,
Very sad he had to die.
All was well could not be better,
Till he wrote my girl a letter.
 

Blown upward, out of sight,
He traced the leak by candle light.
 

Johann Bach.
Musician.
Still decomposing,
After all these years.
 

Dapper Dan,
Was a lady's man,
And known for miles around .
But he slept with Pearl,
The Gambler's girl,
He now lies six feet under ground.

 

Chuck was brave,
Chuck was strong,
But the bungee cord,
Was just too long.

Here lays Butch,
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger,
But slow on the draw.

Sir John Strange:
Here lies an honest lawyer,
And that is Strange.

Grim Death took me
without any warning,
I was well at night,
and dead at nine in the morning.

He was young,
He was fair,
But the Injuns,
Raised his hair.

Here lies old Rastus Sominy,
Died a-eating hominy,
In 1859 anno domini.

G. Winch, the brewer, lies buried here.
In life he was both hale and stout.
Death brought him to his bitter bier.
Now in heaven he hops about.

Going!
Going!!
Gone!!!
    - Jedediah Goodwin, Auctioneer.

Returned - Unopened.
    - A spinster postmistress

Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder
She burst while drinking a Seidlitz powder.
Called from this world to her heavenly rest,
She should have waited till it effervesced.

Dinah had a little can
'Twas filled with kerosine
And soon among the twinkling stars
Dynamite Benzine.

It was a Cough
That carried him Off.
It was a Coffin
They Carried him Off In.

Here Lies Jane Smith
Wife of Thomas Smith
Marble Cutter:
This Monument Erected
By Her Husband
As A Tribute
To Her Memory.
Monuments of this style
are 250 Dollars.

Bill Blake
Was hanged by mistake.

That's all, folks!
    - On grave of Mel Blanc, voice of Bugs Bunny.

Here lies Ben, whose life was full,
Until he tried to milk a bull.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
Quite well I bet
Since it's well fed
By your body down below.

In loving memory of Ellen Shannon, aged 25,
Who was accidentally burned March 21, 1870,
By the explosion of a lamp filled with R.E. Danforth's
Non-explosive burning fluid.



Pet’s Epitaphs:

Rover - got run over

Spot - washed overboard from Grampa's yacht

Fluffy - went toes up & got real puffy

Champ - never made it back to camp

Duke - ate rat poison & started to puke

Fishy - under Dad's boot became rather squishy

Jet - done in by our vet

Lassie - rolled underneath the trash truck's chassis

Shep - off the balcony was a grave misstep

Rocket - shouldn't have licked the electrical socket

Gretchen - found out porcupines are not for fetchin'

Tweety the bird,
Was a great singer and flyer,
Until he took that nap

In the dryer.

Here lies,
All cold and hard,
The last damn dog,
That pooped in my yard.

 

 

 

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