And leaves vacation and the town to me.
Now all is hush'd, asleep the eye of Care,
And Lincoln's-Inn a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the Porter whistles o'er the Square;
Or Pompey barks, or basket-woman scolds.
Save, that from yonder pump, and dusty stair,
The moping shoe-black, and the laundry-maid,
Complain of such as from the town repair,
And leave their usual quarterage unpaid.
In those dull chambers, where old parchments lie,