MONODY ON THE DEATH OF AN ONLY CLIENT
Oh! take away my wig and gown,
Their sight is mock’ry now to me:
I pace my chambers up and down,
Reiterating “Where is he?”
Alas! wild echo, with a moan,
Murmurs above my fever’d head:
In the wide world I am alone;
Ha! ha! my only client’s—dead.