By turning to the left.
From wall-encircled Temple,
Shut out from London’s noise.
Where apron’d porters guard the way,
And keep in awe the boys;
From Gray’s and dingy Clement’s
(Where rents so mod’rate run!)
And Lincoln’s Inn, where stands, alas!
Th’ Insolvent Court,—besides a mass
Of others of a noisome class