Poem by Horace Smith

On Circuit

Two neighbours, fighting for a yard of land;
Two witnesses, who lie on either hand;
Two lawyers, issuing many writs and pleas;
Two clerks, in a dark passage counting fees;
Two counsel, calling one another names;
Two courts, where lawyers play their little games;
Two weeks at Leeds, which wear the soul away;
Two judges getting limper every day;
Two bailiffs of the court with aspect sour--
So runs the round of life from hour to hour.

1. Written in the Porch of Binstead Church, Isle of Wight
2. At the Tavern
3. Address to the Orange-tree at Versailles
4. To the Rev. A. A. in the Country from His Friend in London
5. Abbotsford

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