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Extempore, in the Court of Session

Lord Advocate

He clench'd his pamphlets in his fist,
He quoted and he hinted,
Till in a declamation-mist,
His argument he tint it:
He gaped for 't, he graped for 't,
He fand it was awa, man;
And what his common sense came short,
He eked out wi' law, man.

Mr Erskine

Collected, Harry stood awee,
Then open'd out his arm, man;
His lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e,
And ey'd the gathering storm, man:
Like wind-driv'n hail it did assail,
Or torrents owre a lin, man;
The bench sae wise lift up their eyes,
Half-wauken'd wi' the din, man.

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