Here lies one who for medicine would not give
A little gold, and so his life he lost:
I fancy now he'd wish again to live
Could he but guess how much his funeral cost.
✠
Here lies the body of Jonathan Near
Whose mouth it stretched from ear to ear.
Tread softly, stranger, o'er this wonder,
For if he yawns, you're gone, by thunder!
✠
Truro, Nova Scotia:
Don't weep for me, Eliza dear,
I am not dead, but sleeping here.
As I am now so you must be,
Prepare for death and follow me.
OLIVER P. DONNALLY.
A son that has been ever kind
Has gone and left us all behind;
Cease to weep, my Mother dear,
For I am wrapped up and lying here.
Dear Oliver has gone to rest
In Heaven above with Angels blest;
A place is vacant at our hearts.
Which never can be filled.