Good Lord! it was a bitter fight,
  And lasted all the day and night. 
  When once or oftener the roar
  Had silenced the judicial snore
  The speaker suffered for the sport
  By fining for contempt of court. 
  Twelve jurors’ noses good and true
  Unceasing sang the trial through,
  And even vox populi was spent
  In rattles through a nasal vent. 
  Clerk, bailiff, constables and all
  Heard Morpheus sound the trumpet call
  To arms—­his arms—­and all fell in
  Save counsel for the Man of Sin. 
  That thaumaturgist stood and swayed
  The wand their faculties obeyed—­
  That magic wand which, like a flame. 
  Leapt, wavered, quivered and became
  A wonder-worker—­known among
  The ignoble vulgar as a Tongue.

  How long, O Lord, how long my verse
  Runs on for better or for worse
  In meter which o’ermasters me,
  Octosyllabically free!—­
  A meter which, the poets say,
  No power of restraint can stay;—­
  A hard-mouthed meter, suited well
  To him who, having naught to tell,
  Must hold attention as a trout
  Is held, by paying out and out
  The slender line which else would break
  Should one attempt the fish to take. 
  Thus tavern guides who’ve naught to show
  But some adjacent curio
  By devious trails their patrons lead
  And make them think ’t is far indeed. 
  Where was I?

          While the lawyer talked
  The rogue took up his feet and walked: 
  While all about him, roaring, slept,
  Into the street he calmly stepped. 
  In very truth, the man who thought
  The people’s voice from heaven had caught
  God’s inspiration took a change
  Of venue—­it was passing strange! 
  Straight to his editor he went
  And that ingenious person sent
  A Negro to impersonate
  The fugitive.  In adequate
  Disguise he took his vacant place
  And buried in his arms his face. 
  When all was done the lawyer stopped
  And silence like a bombshell dropped
  Upon the Court:  judge, jury, all
  Within that venerable hall
  (Except the deaf and dumb, indeed,
  And one or two whom death had freed)
  Awoke and tried to look as though
  Slumber was all they did not know.

  And now that tireless lawyer-man
  Took breath, and then again began: 
  “Your Honor, if you did attend
  To what I’ve urged (my learned friend
  Nodded concurrence) to support
  The motion I have made, this court
  May soon adjourn.  With your assent
  I’ve shown abundant precedent
  For introducing now, though late,
  New evidence to exculpate
  My client.  So, if you’ll allow,
  I’ll prove an alibi!” “What?—­how?”
  Stammered the judge.  “Well, yes, I can’t
  Deny your showing, and I grant
  The motion.  Do I understand
  You undertake to prove—­good land!—­