FAR other seats, far diff'rent state
The Sons of Wickedness await.
JUSTICE (not that  I mean,
Who's nightly in the  seen,
Who lets no spark of  rise
For Crimes, ;
Nor HER, who with an equal hand,
Weighs  and  in the STRAND;
Nor HER, who by the World deem'd
Deaf to the Widow's piercing cries,
Steel'd 'gainst the starving Orphan's tears,
On  her base  rears;
But HER, who after Death presides,
Whom sacred TRUTH unerring guides,
Who, free from partial influence,
Nor sinks, nor raises
Before whom nothing's in the dark,
Who takes no  and keeps no
JUSTICE with equal scale below,
In due proportion weighs out woe,
And always with such lucky aim
Knows punishments so fit to frame,
That she augments their grief and pain,
Leaving no Reason to complain.