Beneath this stone lies Katharine Gray,
Chang’d from a busy life to lifeless clay:
By earth and clay she got her pelf,
And now she’s turned to earth herself.
Ye weeping friends — let me advise —
Abate your grief, and dry your eyes;
For what avails a flood of tears f
Who knows, but, in a run of years,
In some tall pitcher or broad pan
She in her shop may be again.
The following, which is suggestive to coffee drinkers, is from a tombstone in Connecticut:
- Here lies cut down like unripe fruit,
- The wife of Deacon Amos Shute;
- She died of drinking too much coffee,
- Anny Dominy eighteen forty