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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Comments about this poem (The Judgement by Robert William Service )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(13 January 1957)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Naomi Shihab Nye
(12 March 1952)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
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