life by his wife's son, and Esq TomAnd David Learys wife
Guilford.
He was a blessing to the saints,
To sinners rich and poor,
He was a kind and worthy man,
He's gone to be no more.
He kept the faith unto the end
And left the world in peace.
He did not for a doctor send
Nor for a hireling priest.
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.
Pembroke.
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.
Jaffrey.
A free negro, Amos Fortune, settled in Jaffrey more than one hundred years ago, though warned off as a possible pauper, and left one quaint bit of history—his estate, to the town. Part of it bought the communion service still in use (1895.) On the gravestone of his wife is this inscription:—
Sacred to the memory of Violate, by purchase the Slave of Amos Fortune, by marriage his wife, by fidelity his companion and solace, and by his death his widow.
VERMONT
Our little Jacob has been taken away to bloom in a superior flower pot above.
My wife lies here.
All my tears cannot bring her back;
Therefore, I weep.
Burlington.
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.
He first departed, she a little tried to live without him. Liked it not and died.
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.
Could blooming years and modesty and all thats pleasing to the eye,
Against grim death been a defence,
Elizabeth had not gone hence.
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.
Windsor.
Death loves a shining mark.
In this case he had it.
Stowe.
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
