Reading epitaphs has a particular fascinating appeal. Although there have been many books published that contain nothing but quotations from gravestone inscriptions, this is a poor substitute for the pleasure of discovering for oneself the epitaphs on monuments in old cemeteries. Reading the words that have been hand cut into the stone so many years ago has a deeper and more direct appeal.
A gravestone in its proper setting has an immediate impact on its viewer. The worn lettering of an old tombstone may be challenging to decipher, but the challenge only adds to the enjoyment.
When you read an epitaph remember that each one is unique, and is an edition of one copy. Even if its verse and sentiment be inscribed on hundreds of similar stones, the message is very personal.
The presage of immortality finds expression in a legion of epitaphs in which the dead speak to the reader from beyond the grave. Weather or not they make a claim for immortality or a personal resurrection, their words live on:
Stranger mark as you pass by.
As you are now, so was I.
As I am now so you must be.
Prepare in time to follow me
--&--
A loving friend, a husband dear.
A tender parent lieth here.
Great is the loss we here sustain.
But hope in heaven to meet again
--&--
Our darling one has gone before.
To greet us on a blissful shore.
--&--
A precious one from us has gone.
A voice we loved is stilled.
A place is vacant from our house.
Which can be never filled.
God in His wisdom had recalled the ones His love have given.
And though the body moulders here.
The soul is safe in heaven.
--&--
A sleep in Jesus, peaceful rest whose wakening is supremely blessed.
--&--
--&--
Epitaph of Phoebe Lloyd wife of Jesse Lloyd whom Lloydtown was named for:
"Jesus has called thy mother home. Her flesh now moulders in the tomb. God grant her off spring may be blessed and meet her in eternal rest."
--&--
Epitaph of Hannah (Lloyd) Stogdill daughter of Jesse & Phoebe Lloyd, who died in child birth at the tender age of 17 years:
" One sweet babe dear Hannah bore, she left me and she is no more. Without a struggle or a groan. She gave her body to the tomb. Blest virtue of the thoughtful life. With blessing.......my dear wife."
--&--
Farewell my wife and darling child.
This world I bid adieu.
Dear wife now my life has past.
My love to you so long did last.
Now for me no sorrow take.
But love my child for my sake.
--&--
Sleep well dear Babe, and take thy rest
God called thee home, He thought it best.
--&--
So unaffected so compos'd a mind.
So firm yet soft, so soft, yet so refin'd
Heav'n as its purest gold with torture tried
The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.
--&--
Oh cruel Death, I felt thy power,
You call'd in an unguarded hour.
My blooming friends, a warning take,
And with God your peace to make.
--&--
My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpets joyful sound.
Then burst the chains, with Sweet Surprise,
And in my Savior's image rise.
--&--
Reader, pause, behold your fate,
Death will arrest you soon or late,
Your dearest interest is to have
Your bliss secur'd beyond thy grave.
--&--
Our home is very lonely without our
precious boy. The happy, laughing Vincent
Full of life of love and joy.
His little chair is vacant, how empty seems
his room. The voice that use to cheer us
is silent in the tomb.
--&--
May we prepare to follow thee.
That we with thee will dwell.
Then we no more shall parted be
nor sighing say farewell.
--&--
Dearest husband, thee hast left us.
Here thy loss we deeply feel.
But tis God that has bareft us.
He can all our sorrow heal.
--&--
Oh cruel Death, I felt thy power,
You call'd in an unguarded hour.
My blooming friends, a warning take,
And with God your peace to make.
--&--
My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpets joyful sound.
Then burst the chains, with Sweet Surprise,
And in my Savior's image rise.
--&--
Reader, pause, behold your fate,
Death will arrest you soon or late,
Your dearest interest is to have
Your bliss secur'd beyond thy grave.
--&--
Our home is very lonely without our
precious boy. The happy, laughing Vincent
Full of life of love and joy.
His little chair is vacant, how empty seems
his room. The voice that use to cheer us
is silent in the tomb.
--&--
May we prepare to follow thee.
That we with thee will dwell.
Then we no more shall parted be
nor sighing say farewell.
--&--
Dearest husband, thee hast left us.
Here thy loss we deeply feel.
But tis God that has bareft us.
He can all our sorrow heal.
R.I.P
