The briefless crowd their nightly vigils keep.
The grave attorney, knocking frequently,
The tittering clerk, who hastens to the door,
The bulky brief, and corresponding fee,
Are things unknown to all that lofty floor.
Small comfort theirs when each dull day is o’er:
No gentle wife their joys and griefs to share,
No quiet homeward walk at half-past four
To some snug tenement near Russell Square.
Oft have they read each prosing term report,