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Marlborough, Massachusetts, Burial Ground Inscriptions: Old Common, Spring ...
Franklin P. Rice
No preview available - 2015
Aaron Abigail Abraham Age Footstone April 27 Auguft Barnes Benjamin Betsey Bigelow blest Body Born Boyd Brigham Caleb Capt Cherub's Head Christ Daniel Daniel Ward Daugh daur dead dear Death's Head Decd departed died April died Aug died Dec died Feb died Jan died July died June died Mar died March died Oct died Sept Double Stone duft Eager Elizabeth Ephraim Erected Farewell Felton friends Goodale grave Hannah Hapgood heaven John Barns Jonas Jonathan July 17 June 11 Lies Buried Lord Lucy Lydia Lyes Buried maiden name Marlborough Martha Mary Maynard Memento mori memory Mifs months Monument Morse muft Paul Brigham Peter Rice Phelps Phinehas Relict rest Revolutionary marker Sacred Samuel Sarah Scroll Sculptor's mark Silas sleep Stevens Stone with Urns Stow Straten Susannah Temple thee Thomas thou Urn and Willow Warren widow wife William Willow Tree Witt y'rs Zeruiah
Page 116 - Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit! rest thee now ! E'en while with ours thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust, to its narrow house beneath ! Soul, to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Page 10 - Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear, That mourns thy exit from a world like this ; Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss • No more confined to grov'ling scenes of night, No more a tenant pent in mortal clay, Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight, And trace thy journey to the realms of day.
Page 180 - Behold and see as you pass by As you are now so once was I; As I am now, so you must be Prepare for death and follow me.
Page 106 - Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on his breast I lean my head, And breathe my life out sweetly there.
Page 94 - Thou art gone to the grave — but 'twere wrong to deplore thee, When God was thy ransom, thy guardian, thy guide ; He gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore thee, Where death hath no sting, since the Saviour hath died.
Page 49 - Hark ! how the sacred calm, that breathes around, Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease ; In still small accents whispering from the ground, A grateful earnest of eternal peace.
Page 11 - Bury the dead; — and weep In stillness o'er the loss; Bury the dead ;— in Christ they sleep Who bore on earth His cross, And from the grave their dust shall rise In His own image to the skies.
Page 57 - Smitten friends Are angels sent on errands full of love ; For us they languish, and for us they die...