|Godspeed or Good Luck|
|Name, Date, God is Love|
|Name, Relationships, Occupation|
|Painting by Jean-Leon Gerome Pollice Verso|
|Epitaph on Diodours' tombstone|
|Epitaph on White Bronze marker|
from the 1800's
|Gone But Not Forgotten|
|Wife, Mother, Friend|
All lost in thee.
|Dear Morgan thou hast left me|
In this world to weep for thee
But with God's will and his good pleasure
I soon will be at rest with thee.
|Blessed are the pure in heart|
For they shall see God
|Asleep in Jesus|
|Strength through faith|
|Unto him that loved us and washed|
us from our sins in his own blood - -
to him be the glory and dominion for ever
and ever. Amen. Rev. 1: 5-6
|But, oh for the touch of a|
vanished hand and the
sound of a voice that is still
|Husband, may we pass together|
through the gate ajar.
|Thou art gone but remembered|
|Wait for me, the best is yet to be|
|An inspiration to all|
who knew him
|He caught joy on the wing|
and enriched our lives
|Remember me with laughter|
|Two epitaphs on this couples stone.|
His: Bonds exist that will never be broke.
He that was dead, lives.
Hers: One life has finished
and time has come for another to begin
|He was faithful to every duty|
|She died as she lived,|
a noble woman.
|Purity and innocence |
require no epitaph
or letter of credit
in the land of spirits
|Her beautiful face was heaven's mirror.|
Her heart a sanctuary of prayer and love;
With duty fulfilled and faith unfaltering,
The noble spirit entered the court above.
|Our Crown Jewel|
|As I sleep this lonely night,|
I think of the bird lost in flight...
|For Whom the Bell Tolls|
|Sheltered and safe|
|No man is an island entire of itself,|
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main
|The kiss of the sun for pardon,|
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
|Dear Husband Can I e're forget,|
Or shall the grave eternally sever?
No, in my memory you still live yet.
And in my heart you will live forever.
|Why weep ye then for him, who, having won|
The bound of man's appointed years, at last,
Life's blessings all enjoyed, Life's labors done
Serenely to his final resting place has passed.
|Life is real! Life is earnest!|
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.