 | Poems |  |
ON A CERTAIN LAWYER.
When thou in h---I shalt take thy place,
(For there thou 'lt doubtless get,)
Wo to thee shouldst thou plead thy case!
You never gained one yet.
(For there thou 'lt doubtless get,)
Wo to thee shouldst thou plead thy case!
You never gained one yet.
HIS EPITAPH.
No client more, with golden fleece,
To fumble o'er and shave,
Here lies a Justice of the Peace
And a confounded knave.
To fumble o'er and shave,
Here lies a Justice of the Peace
And a confounded knave.
| Poems | |