“It once was full,” quoth he:
He showeth me his faggot brief,
Marked with a monstrous fee.
I sat me down beside the door—
I could not choose but hear,
As thus spake on that mouldy man,
That briefless Barristere:—
“The kites were flown, the bubbles blown,
Merrily went the scrip;
Directors schemed, nor ever dreamed