That we assent (who neither loved nor grieve)
To all that praise which on the tomb is read,
To all that passion dictates for the dead;
But, more indignant, we the tomb deride,
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Whose bold inscription flattery sells to pride.
Read of this Burgess—on the stone appear,
How worthy he! how virtuous! and how dear!
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What wailing was there when his spirit fled,