Page:Biographical and critical studies by James Thomson ("B.V.").djvu/383

 A STRANGE BOOK 367 " Ranged on stools, there they sit, Bench of fools, full of wit : Bench of zanies keen as knives, Free of tongue, on all archives. There they sit from age to age : Leathern socs of the world's st^e : And for every hour they sit, They do spoil the nation's wit. And on all sides lo ! they look With a vision like a cook, When she bastes a venison haunch. Fatly for a monarch's paunch. And the beauty of their dream, As upon their bench they seem, Is old justice, fat and flavoured, Carved for them, and by them savoured. Lo I the logic skeletons Serve them for their meat with stones, And for reasonings they try How the logic-stones will fry. They have ghosts of actors poor For their guardian angels sure, And their brains like dresses worn. Are sieves held for public corn. Lord, how long shall these offend ? And what is their latter end ? — They shall live on bench of glee. Long as human cruelty. They shall date with quarrel, years : Time, with hypocritic tears : Long as luxury hath tether, They shall warm their arid leather.