The Laws I Love; The Lawyers I

England A Fortune-telling Host, As Num'rous As The Stars, Could Boast; Matrons, Who Toss The Cup, And See The Grounds Of Fate In Grounds Of Tea.

Wit, Who Never Once Forgave A Brother, Shall Forgive A Dunce.

When Satire Flies Abroad On Falsehood's Wing, Short Is Her Life, And Impotent Her Sting; But When To Truth Allied, The Wound She Gives Sinks Deep, And To Remotest Ages Lives.

The More Haste, Ever The Worst Speed.

Who Often, But Without Success, Have Prayed For Apt Alliteration's Artful Aid.