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JUSTICE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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JUSTICE.

NOVEMBER 22, 1873.

Why, who is this comes down the street
With flashing eyes and flaming sword;
With shoes of swiftness on her feet,
And on her lips a swifter word?
The balance in her hand she bears
Is swayed no more by every wind;
The bandage from her eyes she tears,
For Justice is no longer blind.

54

“Listen,” she cries, “ye sons of men!
Too long I stood upon your towers,
While you, too far beneath my ken,
Defied and mocked my awful powers.
“Now here I come to see and slay;
I come to hold the sword of might,
To make for truth a level sway,
To trample wrong and succor right.
“The fillet of my slavery
I tread beneath my steady feet:
'Tis time that Justice learned to see;
'Tis time I stood on every street.
“Cringe as ye will, ye fawning poor,
And fawning rich, on either hand;
My glance is keen, my stroke is sure;
I come to rule the seething land!”
Ah, friend, so long to man denied,
Prolong thy reign, forever stay!
Fear not the crowd on every side
That hate or dread thy righteous sway.
If earth be not thy dwelling-place,
Yet strive to tarry here a while,
And smite this foul and evil race
With the stern splendor of thy smile!

55

Sweep clean the land on every hand;
Its reeking millions die for thee!—
She turned on mine her eyes divine:
“Canst thou abide my victory?”