THE LONG VACATION.
Poor briefless one! thy furrowed face
For thy profession shows thy fitness;
And in its parchment lines we trace,
Too plainly, "These indentures witness."
Thy gown, thy bag, and all around,
Bespeak thine utter desolation;
Thy purse would lank and void be found—
Yes, all proclaims the long vacation.
Thy voice in court is always mute;
For known to all thy friends the fact is,
That, to thy melancholy flute,
Thou dost confine thy chamber practice.
They think thy clerk must sure enjoy
A sinecure—they much mistake;
They little know the wretched boy
Both cleans thy boots, and cooks thy steak.
Thy friends predicted unto thee
A judgeship; pray excuse my broaching
A theme that must unpleasant be,
Though to the bench thou art approaching.
Be of good cheer! perhaps, at last,
Fate may with some appointment bless thee,
And all thy present trials past,
In "brief authority" still dress thee.
Show of Hands for a Liberal Candidate.