Poems (Cook)/Law and Justice

by Eliza Cook

LAW AND JUSTICE.

"Once upon a time," which all good people know,
 Always stands for "nobody knows when:"
Old Dame Justice lived among us here below,
 Held in proper reverence by men.

They tell us wondrous tales, and say that in her scales,
 An ounce of Worth weighed down a pound of Gold;
And though none quite agree as to when that time might be,
 We all admit it must be very old.

It seems that cunning folks soon tried to lead and hoax
 The poor blind lady into doing wrong;
But they saw they could not frighten, and they found they could not coax,
 So they openly abused her before long.

She stood with dauntless form, like a sign-post in a storm,
 Still telling people which way they should take;
But her enemies increased, and their malice grew so warm,
 That the honest woman's heart began to ache.

The Gods, who lived above, and held her in their love,
 As most important delegate of Truth;
Felt very sad to find the mass of mortal kind
 So soon should prove mean, selfish, and uncouth.

Dame Justice, somewhat proud, would seldom tell aloud
 The burning wrongs that pierced her to the heart;
And so Jove thought at length he'd give her extra strength,
 And send a brave, young man to take her part.

They dress'd him all in black, and stuff'd a sacred sack
 With spotless wool to serve him for a seat;
And firmly did he vow that he would never bow
 To any who might come with bribe or cheat.

He'd keep at the right-hand of Justice, and withstand
 The yellow dust and great patrician's word;
'Twixt Poverty and Might, he promised to indict
 The greatest sinner, spite of all he heard.

And this most honest man Jove sent to aid the plan
 Of universal good and common right;
They bless'd him and anointed the head of their appointed,
 They called him "Law," and sent him forth to fight.

Alas! this "traitor loon," this brave, young man, full soon
 Did anything but serve his mistress well:
He shifted like the wind, he altered like the moon;
 And was changeful in his breathings as a bell.

All plausible and fair, he kept beside her chair;
 But while she told him how he was to act,
He managed so to state what she wish'd him to relate,
 That she scarcely knew her own, unvarnish'd fact.

He has dared, full many a time, to treat the poor man's crime
 With bitter words—the prison and disgrace;
While the rich, whose blame and shame should have been the very same,
 Met the smile of courteous mercy on his face.

He does such brazen deeds, that the soul of Justice bleeds;
 As she hears his "summing up," with sad surprise;
And while he "settles things," convulsively she wrings
 The brine-drops from the bandage on her eyes.

Most certain it appears, that these anguish-laden tears
 Are caused by this young man so shrewd and clever;
And the case is very clear, that since Jove sent "Law" here,
 Dame Justice has been much worse off than ever.