Law, say the gardeners, is the sun,
Law is the
All gardeners
To-morrow, yesterday, to-day.
Law is the wisdom of the old,
The impotent grandfathers feebly scold;
The grandchildren put out a treble tongue,
Law is the senses of the young.
Law, says the priest with a priestly look,
Expounding to an unpriestly people,
Law is the words in my priestly book,
Law is my pulpit and my steeple.
Law, says the judge as he looks down his nose,
Speaking clearly and most severely,
Law is as I've told you before,
Law is as you know I suppose,
Law is but let me explain it once more,
Law is The Law.
Yet law-abiding scholars write:
Law is neither wrong nor right,
Law is only
Punished by places and by times,
Law is the clothes men
Anytime, anywhere,
Law is Good morning and Good night.
Others say,
Law is our Fate;
Others say,
Law is our State;
Others say, others
Law is no more,
Law has gone away.
And always the loud angry crowd,
Very angry and very loud,
Law is We,
And always the soft idiot softly Me.
If we, dear, know we know no
Than they about the Law,
If I no more than
Know what we should and should not
Except that all
Gladly or
That the Law
And that all know
If therefore thinking it
To identify Law with some other word,
Unlike so many menI cannot say Law is again,
No more than they can we
The universal wish to
Or slip out of our own
Into an unconcerned condition.
Although I can at least
Your vanity and
To stating timidlyA timid similarity,
We shall boast anyway:
Like love I say.
Like love we don't know where or why,
Like love we can't compel or fly,
Like love we often weep,
Like love we seldom keep.
