Doff the thick veil that hides thy lovely visage,
Justice!—'tis time—the veil which in thy childhood
Sages flung o'er thee—let us look upon thee
In thine own beauty.
Kind was the thought—the countenance of evil
Shouldst thou not see, for thou wert its condemner;
All the gold piles of wealth-encumbered proud ones,
Thee should not dazzle.
Doff the thick veil—hide thy bright eye no longer;
Crime is too bold—look on in sternest beauty;
See, for mankind are dragged to basest doings
By their own blindness.
Eyes sharp as thine are watching how thou holdest
High o'er thy head the scale; but listen, Goddess!
Didst thou not hear a piece of gold that tinkled
In thine own balance?
Didst thou not know thy sword had lost its brightness?
Trembled thy hand — the while a mighty villain
Whispered, and threatened thee with wrath and vengeance?
Yes! thy hand trembled.
Didst thou not know that thou hadst been deluded
By the vain pomp of words—hadst lost the spirit,
Seeking the letter, of thine holiest canon?
Justice! unveil thee.
Off with the veil—behold the heaven is cloudless,
And the sun mounts in unaccustomed glory;
See, all mankind are seeing—wilt thou only
Wear thine old blindness?