And when twelve men, in one compound,
For me a guilty verdict found,
Who came to stanch the bleeding wound?
Who said my time within the wall
Would be exceeding brief and small,
The minimum, or none at all?
My Lawyer.
And when the judge my doom proclaimed,
And three long years of exile named,
Who looked indignant and ashamed?
My Lawyer.
When, at the sheriff's stern command,
I for the train was told to stand,
Who longest shook and squeezed my hand?
My Lawyer.
Who, when he had me safe confined,
No more concerned his crafty mind,
Nor was, for me, to grief inclined?
My Lawyer.