This breathing world, the delegates of Jove.
Guardians of man, [61]their glance alike surveys
The upright judgments and th’ unrighteous ways.
A virgin pure is Justice: and her birth,
August, from him who rules the heavens and earth:
A creature glorious to the gods on high,
Whose mansion is yon everlasting sky.
Driven by despiteful wrong she takes her seat
In lowly grief at Jove’s eternal feet.
There of the soul unjust her plaints ascend: