Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 06.pdf/560

 Seven Ages of the Lawyer. Next, Joseph Justice, Raised to the pleasant woolsack's high degree; In awe-inspiring wig and sable gown, With solemn verdict and an eye severe; With fair round belly and his purse well lined. Sixth age: the judge retired; at his club, Taking his comfort in his easy chair; Mellow with many years and good old port-; Much given to speech and seasoned anecdote And wit and repartee of bench and bar, And graphic scenes of legal days gone by; On whom prosperity and honor smile; While time and he together play the rubber Of life's long game of many tricks and suits. Last scene of all : old age, and that grim goal, Where Death, the sheriff, waits to serve the writ Of summons to that higher record court, Where all our deeds are filed and titles searched By the impartial eye of the great Judge. For him who's kept the sword of justice clean And helped to make the bulwark of the law Fit for the sentinel tread of peace, for him "No mere oblivion" waits, but being dead, Yet will his voice in after ages speak In code and valued volume of the law And monuments of honor, to the mind.

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