The Judge looked down, his face was grim,
He scratched his ear;
The gangster’s moll looked up at him
With eyes of fear.
She thought: ‘This guy in velvet gown,
With balding pate,
Who now on me is looking down,
Can seal my fate.’
The Judge thought: ‘Fifteen years or ten
I might decree.
Just let me say the word and then
Go home to tea.
But then this poor wretch might not be
So long alive . . .’
So with surprise he heard that he
Was saying ‘Five’.
The Judge went home. His daughter’s child
Was five that day;
And with sweet gifts around her piled
She laughed in play.
Then mused the Judge: ‘Life oft bestows
Such evil odds.
May he who human mercy shows
Not count on God’s?’
(Robert William Service)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Mind Poems, Faces Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Home Poems, Fear Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Law & Regulation Poems, Tea PoemsBased on Keywords: pate, moll, gangster, balding