While eager macers call, with all their might,
The busy lawyers from each judge’s roll.
E’re long, from yonder velvet-mantled chair,
The angry judge does to the bar complain,
Of counsel who, by way and means unfair,
Molest his potent and judicial reign.
Beneath yon fretted roof that rafters shade,
Whare lie huge deeds in many mouldering heads,
Each, in its narrow cell, far too long laid,
Many a dusty process often sleeps.