Nursery rhyme

Tommy Trot, a man of law,
Sold his cot and slept on straw,
Sold his straw and slept on grass,
To buy his wife a looking glass.

THE LAWYERS KNOW TOO MUCH (By Carl August Sandburg)
The lawyers, Bob, know too much.
They are chums of the books of old John Marshall.
They know it all, what a dead hand wrote,
A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling,
The bones of the fingers a thin white ash.
The lawyers know
a dead man's thought too well.

In the heels of the higgling lawyers, Bob,
Too many slippery ifs and buts and howevers,
Too much hereinbefore provided whereas,
Too many doors to go in and out of.

When the lawyers are through
What is there left, Bob?
Can a mouse nibble at it
And find enough to fasten a tooth in?

Why is there always a secret singing
When a lawyer cashes in?
Why does a hearse horse snicker
Hauling a lawyer away?

The work of a bricklayer goes to the blue.
The knack of a mason outlasts a moon.
The hands of a plasterer hold a room together.
The land of a farmer wishes him back again.
Singers of songs and dreamers of plays
Build a house no wind blows over.
The lawyers--tell me why a hearse horse snickers
hauling a lawyer's bones.

THE LAWYERS' WAYS (By Paul Laurence Dunbar)

I've been list'nin' to them lawyersIn the court house up the street,An' I've come to the conclusionThat I'm most completely beat.Fust one feller riz to argy,An' he boldly waded inAs he dressed the tremblin' pris'nerIn a coat o' deep-dyed sin.Why, he painted him all overIn a hue o' blackest crime,An' he smeared his reputationWith the thickest kind o' grime,Tell I found myself a-wond'rin',In a misty way and dim,How the Lord had come to fashionSich an awful man as him.Then the other lawyer started,An' with brimmin', tearful eyes,Said his client was a martyrThat was brought to sacrifice.An' he give to that same pris'nerEvery blessed human grace,Tell I saw the light o' virtueFairly shinin' from his face.Then I own 'at I was puzzledHow sich things could rightly be;An' this aggervatin' questionSeems to keep a-puzzlin' me.So, will some one please inform me,An' this mystery unroll--How an angel an' a devilCan persess the self-same soul? SONNET 35 (By William Shakespeare)
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense--
Thy adverse party is thy advocate--
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate
That I an accessary needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

Epigraph from THE JUDGE IS FURY (by James Vincent Cunningham)

These the assizes: here the charge, denial,
Proof and disproof: the poem is the trial.
Experience is defendant, and the jury
Peers of tradition, and the judge is fury.

THE LAW MY CALLING IS (By Sir John Davies)

The Law my calling is, my robe, my tongue, my pen.
Wealth and opinion gain, and make me judge of men.
The known dishonest cause, I never did defend,
Nor spun out suits in length, but wisht and sought an end
Nor counsel did bewray, nor of both parties take,
Nor ever tooke I fee for which I never spake.

LAW LIKE LOVE (By Wystan Hugh Auden)

Law, say the gardeners, is the sun,
Law is the one
All gardeners obey
Tomorrow, yesterday, today.
Law is the wisdom of the old,
The impotent grandfathers feebly scold;
The grandchildren put out a treble tongue,
Law is the senses of the young.

Law, says the priest with a priestly look,
Expounding to an unpriestly people,
Law is the words in my priestly book,
Law is my pulpit and my steeple.

Law, says the judge as he looks down his nose,
Speaking clearly and most severely,
Law is as I've told you before,
Law is as you know I suppose,
Law is but let me explain it once more,
Law is The Law.

Yet law-abiding scholars write:
Law is neither wrong nor right,
Law is only crimes
Punished by places and by times,
Law is the clothes men wear
Anytime, anywhere,
Law is Good morning and Good night.

Others say, Law is our Fate;
Others say, Law is our State;
Others say, others say
Law is no more,
Law has gone away.

And always the loud angry crowd,
Very angry and very loud,
Law is We,
And always the soft idiot softly Me.

If we, dear, know we know no more
Than they about the Law,
If I no more than you
Know what we should and should not do
Except that all agree
Gladly or miserably
That the Law is
And that all know this
If therefore thinking it absurd
To identify Law with some other word,
Unlike so many men
I cannot say Law is again,

No more than they can we suppress
The universal wish to guess
Or slip out of our own position
Into an unconcerned condition.
Although I can at least confine
Your vanity and mine
To stating timidly
A timid similarity,
We shall boast anyway:
Like love I say.

Like love we don't know where or why,
Like love we can't compel or fly,
Like love we often weep,
Like love we seldom keep.

---

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20