How keenly did they, then, their clients shield!
How bow’d the laws beneath their sturdy stroke.
Let not derision mock their useful toils,
Forensic broils, and origin obscure,
Nor judges hear, with a disdainful smile,
The short and simple causes of the poor.
The boast of sov’reignty, the rod of power,
And all the sway that judges ever have,
Await alike the inevitable hour
When all must yield to some designing knave.