The Judgement

Robert William Service

The Judge looked down, his face was grim,
          He scratched his ear;
The gangster’s moll looked up at him
          With eyes of fear.
She thought: ‘This guy in velvet gown,
          With balding pate,
Who now on me is looking down,
          Can seal my fate.’

The Judge thought: ‘Fifteen years or ten
          I might decree.
Just let me say the word and then
          Go home to tea.
But then this poor wretch might not be
          So long alive . . .’
So with surprise he heard that he
          Was saying ‘Five’.

The Judge went home. His daughter’s child
          Was five that day;
And with sweet gifts around her piled
          She laughed in play.
Then mused the Judge: ‘Life oft bestows
          Such evil odds.
May he who human mercy shows
          Not count on God’s?’

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