Classic Poem

The judges come and hold assize
In yonder court — but what's the use?
They do more harm, sir, with their lies
Than any mad dog broken loose.

And many Rommany lads there be,
Who ne'er a bit of harm have done,
Are sent to jail, or over the sea —
And I myself well knows of one.

You knows Mat Lovell, sir, of course,
Who lost his wife some years ago?
He's took for stealin' of a horse,
And got three years for doin' so.

But — hang them magistrates, I say! —
By my dead father this I swears!
The chap as took that horse away
Ain't in the shirt that Matthew wears!

" Why didn't I give evidence,
If I knew that? " — Ah, there's the rub!
I couldn't speak for the defence
'Cos my old man had done the job.

" He oughter proved a halibi ,
Said where he'd been and what about! "
Poor fellow, ah! he durstn't try:
They'd hang him if they found that out.