Old Nick from his place of last resort
    Came up and looked the world over.
  He saw how the grass of the good was short
    And the wicked lived in clover.

  And he gravely said: "This is all, all wrong,
    And never by me intended.
  If to me the power should ever belong
    I shall have this thing amended."

  He looked so solemn and good and wise
    As he made this observation
  That the men who heard him believed their eyes
    Instead of his reputation.

  So they bruited the matter about, and each
    Reported the words as nearly
  As memory served—with additional speech
    To bring out the meaning clearly.

  The consequence was that none understood,
    And the wildest rumors started
  Of something intended to help the good
    And injure the evil-hearted.

  Then Robert Morrow was seen to smile
    With a bright and lively joyance.
  "A man," said he, "that is free from guile
    Will now be free from annoyance.

  "The Featherstones doubtless will now increase
    And multiply like the rabbits,
  While jailers, deputy sheriffs, police,
    And writers will form good habits.

  "The widows more easily robbed will be,
    And no juror will ever heed 'em,
  But open his purse to my eloquent plea
    For security, gain, or freedom."

  When Benson heard of the luck of the good
    (He was eating his dinner) he muttered:
  "It cannot help me, for 'tis understood
    My bread is already buttered.

  "My plats of surveys are all false, they say,
    But that cannot greatly matter
  To me, for I'll tell the jurors that they
    May lick, if they please, my platter."