DEATH AND THE LAWYER.

Otago Witness, Issue 1204, 26 December 1874, Page 21

DEATH AND THE LAWYER.

A lawyor alone in his chamber lay, Deserted and friendless, to die ; He knew that Death's " summons " he must obey, And he groaned with a dreadful sigh. He tossed and he turned, for his bosom burned, And his conscience began to gnaw ; And "motions " he made that his " case be adjourned," In hopos he might find out a "flaw." Law ! law ! law ! from morning to dewy eve, And from evoning till rosj morn ; Though the widow may weep and the fatherless grieve, Or the poor grow weary and worn— I've laboured and battled a lifetime through, And its mazes have trodden \\ ell ; And what I have done and have helped to do, The " docket" alone can tell. For a "fee " I've proved it lawful and right For the husband to beat the wife ; And I've screened the villain who wreaked his spite On his innocent neighbour's life. I've parted the parent and doting child, And the guileless broken of rest ; And the prattling babe, as it sweetly smiled, I've torn from its mother's breast. Fond brother and sister, and Son and sire, I've fired with fury for yeai's, As I fanned the flame that kindled their ire, Till their cheeks ran scalding tears. And virtue I've proved was a worthless toy To the maiden or blooming bride : And the vile seducer that snared to destroy I've lifted on wings of pride. And foul mouthed slander, with slimy tongue, I've guarded from day to day — Though I've seen the soul of the spotless wrung, And the pure in heart decay. And thorns in the flowery path I've spread, And woe where the heart was glad, And I've sown distrust in the marriage bed, Till the wife went raving mad. The rich have I brought to a besrgar's fate, And the proud to an humble sphere ; And cringing slaves have I made of the great, And the brave to quake with fear, I've make a jury of honest men On their sacred oaths agree, Though in right cold blood a murder was done, The murderer might go free. All this have I done for a life of fame, And I've gathered great heaps of gold ; And far and near has my sounding name In prison and court been told. Oh, mighty indeed is the law I love — 'Tis pliant to such as I, Though close and tangled its meshes are wove, And its wrath may terrify— For "writ" and "summons" and "warrant" and "narr," " Demurrer " and " notice " and " plea," And " briefs " and " motions " and " orders " are The slaves of the magic " fee." But my "default " has been taken at lastIn prison I soon shall be, And " judgment final " on me is passed, For want of a timely " plea." No " notice of trial" need I expect, But a " capias " and " arrest " ; And " Death " will " bail for the limits" reject, And his "process " I can't contest. No chanre for " new trial," " exceptions," or " case," For the " judgment-record " is made, And the " transcript " filled in that awful place Where the "claim" and "costs" must be paid. If now a " mandamus " I could get, Or an " order to show some cause," I'm sure I could find a loop-hole yet To escape those terrible laws. I know I cpuld " swear to merits " enough, And give a long " notice of set-off ; " No doubt that my conscience would be quite tough, With such a good chance for a get off. But listen ! alas ! there's " Death "at the door ! I'm sure of my condemnation. Oh ! how I wish 1 had " pleaded " before With " notice of justification." And then he turned over to hide his head, But " Death " had him firmly fast ; He struggled in vain, and the last word he said Was " Not guilty ! " and then life passed. The neighbours came in, and there laid him out, In the room where he lived and died ; And then barred and bolted the door without, " But the windows opened wide." Next morn they went back, and wondrous to tell, Nobody, forsooth, was there, But they said that an awful unearthly smell Of " sulphur" wns in the air. San Francisco, September 24th, 1874.