Contempt of Court

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Contempt of Court

So, Juror Simpson, you got drunk

And was a holy show!

Who could have thought that you had sunk

So very low

As not to hold it clearly sinful

To get your miserable skin full?

Defendant has a right, I think,

To trial by her peers;

Are you one when you are in drink

Up to your ears?

You’re not her equal by a pailful

When you’ve enough to make a whale full.

Judge Ross, who never, never looks

On wine when it is red,

But sits cold sober cramming books

Into his head,

Poor fellow! must have felt quite rueful,

Observing, not himself, but you full.

Ah, well, I know you did not mean⁠—

’Twas all an accident:

You drank between drinks, and between

Them you repent.

But just prepare for something awful

In words: That jurist has his jaw full.