While we sigh, we sink.

From a cemetery at Routes 19 + 20, Brimfield, MA:

Man's home is in the grave;
Here dwells the multitude:
We gaze around;
We read their monuments;
We sigh, + while we sigh, we sink.

The hidden cause

From Petersham Center Cemetery, Petersham, MA:

In memory of
Doctor John Flint,
member of the M.M. Society,
who died of spotted fever
Feb 27th 1810 AET. 31
This spot of earth envelopes the remains
of a man, whose constant + unremitted
endeavors were uniformly, + indefa-
tigably exerted to meliorate the con-
dition of suffering humanity; and
while actually engaged in investigating
the hidden causes + obviating the dead
-ly tendancy of a novel insidious, + des-
tructive malady, fell a victim to its
banefull influence.
In the meridian of life, + in the
morning of usefullness, after an ill-
ness of but nine hours, he was sud-
denly swept to the grave.
As an husband + parent, he was
kind tender, + affectionate; as a
neighbor benevolent; as a man, ir-
reproachable; + as a friend inestimable
Also
Lydia, AE 8 years who died Feb 27
and
Sally, AE 2 years who died March 1
1810
The same dreadfull disease which robbed a
flourishing + happy fammily of a husband +
father, snatched from the mother's bleeding
bosom these blooming children.

Through every glade

Cemetery at Routes 19 and 20, Brimfield, MA:

Life is a dream an empty shade,
Persuade by death through every glade.
No age nor sercumstance nor place
Can screen us from death's cold embrace.

We must moulder...

From West Cemetery, Amherst, MA:

The blooming cheek
The sparkling eye
From death's arrest could not save me
Youth and beauty both must die
Like we must moulder in the grave.

Of what is past, or passing, or to come

Some one-liners from Wildwood Cemetery, Amherst, MA:

Death has made his Darkness beautiful with thee.

There is no death. What seems so is transition.

Rejoice! We move to meet the sun!

Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

When I awake I am still with thee.

On a winter beach

From Wellfleet, MA:

In memory of
David, son of John
+ Marcy Hawes. Who froze
on Norset Beach, Jany 13th;
1809: in his 20 year.

Mortal frames

An uplifting epitaph from Truro, MA:

How feble is our mortal frame
What dying worms we are.