Classic Poem

Law where it comes with cost, will ever rence
And clense the purse, exhausting out the pence
With over-often feeing of the Clarks,
Receiving of their Malters many Markes.
Each man thinks not what forty-pence doth waste,
Noting a Sute but one seven yeeres to last:
Consider then ten Groatsa Terme in's time,
Ev'n unto more than eight pound fees will clime.

Each one that go'th to Law , if Law doth rence ,
Send mo had need cry Sir, send pound and pence;
Millions of pounds the Lawyers soone devoure,
On Angels only looking, else they lower.
Noble, you marke this well, and therefore call
Duely to yours, that not to Law they fall.