On Two Dead Speakers

Mourn , mourn, St. Stephen's Choirs, with ceaseless grieving
Two kindred spirits from the senate fled,
In the same chair we heard them both lie living,
On the same day we see them both lie dead.

Sure in one grave they ought to lie together,
Then in their praise should fiction's self be loath;
The stone that says a civil thing of either,
May praise impartially, and lie for both.
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