"And if he was alive all the time? Whew! By jingo, that would be awful! No, no: he is dead, of course. Of course he is dead. Monday he died. They ought to have some law to pierce the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the coffin and some kind of a canvas airhole. Flag of distress." (U6.865)
"Three days. Rather long to keep them in summer. Just as well to get shut of them as soon as you are sure there's no.
The clay fell softer. Begin to be forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind." (U6.869)
"The caretaker moved away a few paces and put on his hat. Had enough of it. The mourners took heart of grace, one by one, covering themselves without show. Mr Bloom put on his hat and saw the portly figure make its way deftly through the maze of graves. Quietly, sure of his ground, he traversed the dismal fields." (U6.873)
"Hynes jotting down something in his notebook {i got]. Ah, the names. But he knows them all. No: coming to me.
— I am just taking the names, Hynes said below his breath. What is your christian name? I'm not sure.
— L, Mr Bloom said. Leopold. And you might put down M'Coy's name too. He asked me to.
— Charley, Hynes said writing. I know. He was on the Freeman once.
So he was before he got the job in the morgue under Louis Byrne." (U6.878)
"Good idea a postmortem for doctors. Find out what they imagine they know. He died of a Tuesday. Got the run." (U7.886)
"Levanted with the cash of a few ads. Charley, you're my darling. That was why he asked me to. O well, does no harm. I saw to that, M'Coy. Thanks, old chap: much obliged. Leave him under an obligation: costs nothing.
- And tell us, Hynes said, do you know that fellow in the, fellow was over there in the...
He looked around.
- Macintosh. Yes, I saw him, Mr Bloom said. Where is he now?
- M'Intosh, Hynes said, scribbling. I don't know who he is. Is that his name? " (U6.886)
"He moved away, looking about him.
- No, Mr Bloom began, turning and stopping. I say, Hynes!
Didn't hear. What? Where has he disappeared to? Not a sign. Well of all the. Has anybody here seen? Kay ee double ell. Become invisible. Good Lord, what became of him?" (U6.897)
"A seventh gravedigger came beside Mr Bloom to take up an idle spade.
— O, excuse me!
He stepped aside nimbly.
Clay, brown, damp, began to be seen in the hole. It rose. Nearly over.
A mound of damp clods rose more, rose, and the gravediggers rested their spades. All uncovered again for a few instants. The boy propped his wreath against a corner: the brother-in-law his on a lump. The gravediggers put on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the barrow. Then knocked the blades lightly on the turf: clean. One bent to pluck from the haft a long tuft of grass." (U6.902)
"One, leaving his mates, walked slowly on with shouldered weapon, its blade blueglancing. Silently at the gravehead
another coiled the coffinband. His navelcord. The brother-in-law, turning away, placed something in his free hand. Thanks in silence. Sorry, sir: trouble. Headshake. I know that. For yourselves just.
The mourners moved away slowly without aim, by devious paths, staying at whiles to read a name on a tomb." (U6.912)
"Let us go round by the chief's grave, Haynes said." (U6.919)

The chief is Charles Stewart Parnell (1846 - 1891). This is a SV approaching his (unmarked) grave in Prospect Cemetery, with the O'Connell monument and the mortuary chapel in the background.
"- Let us, Mr Power said.
They turned to the right, following their slow thoughts. With awe Mr Power's blank voice spoke:
- Some say he is not in that grave at all. That the coffin was filled with stones. That one day he will come again." (U6.920)
"Hynes shook his head.
- Parnell will never come again, he said. He's there, all that was mortal of him. Peace to his ashes." (U6.925)

In this SV from 1896, Parnell's grave seemed to have plenty of visitors.
"Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, old Ireland's hearts and hands." (U6.928)
"More sensible to spend the money on some charity for the living. Pray for the repose of the soul of. Does anybody really? Plant him and have done with him. Like down a coalshoot. Then lump them together to save time. All souls' day. Twentyseventh I'll be at his grave." (U6.930)
"Ten shillings for the gardener. He keeps it free of weeds. Old man himself. Bent down double with his shears clipping. Near death's door." (U6.934)
"Who passed away. Who departed this life. As if they did it of their own accord. Got the shove, all of them." (U6.936)