WHEN the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes of lawyers and cool decisions of the judge, There are points of high silence -- twiddling of thumbs is at an end -- bailiffs near cuspidors take fresh chews of tobacco and wait -- and the clock has a chance for its ticking to be heard. A lawyer for the defense clears his throat and holds himself ready if the word is "Guilty" to enter motion for a new trial, speaking in a soft voice, speaking in a voice slightly colored with bitter wrongs mingled with monumental patience, speaking with mythic Atlas shoulders of many preposterous, unjust circumstances. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THIS DARK HOUSE by EDWARD DAVISON THE BARD; A PINDARIC ODE by THOMAS GRAY JUDGE NOT by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY LAUTERBRUNNEN by THOMAS GOLD APPLETON MUCKLE-MOU'D MEG by JAMES BALLANTYNE THE VOLCANIC ISLAND by CLIFFORD BAX |