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Two voices, only two, to earth belong,
Of all whose accents met the listening throng:
Winthrop, alike for speech and guidance framed,
On that proud day a twofold duty claimed;
One other yet,—remembered or forgot,—
Forgive my silence if I name him not.
Can I believe it? I, whose youthful voice
Claimed a brief gamut,—notes not over choice,—
Stood undismayed before the solemn throng,
And propria voce sung that saucy song
Which even in memory turns my soul aghast,—
Felix audacia was the verdict cast.