Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

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       Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest!"

       But, without heeding his warmth, continued the notary public:—

       "Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice

       Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me,

       When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal."

       This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it

       When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done them.

       "Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember,

       Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice

       Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand,

       And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided

       Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people.

       Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance,

       Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above them.

       But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted;

       Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty

       Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's palace

       That a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a suspicion

       Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household.

       She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold,

       Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice.

       As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended,

       Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the thunder

       Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left hand

       Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of the balance,

       And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie,

       Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was inwoven."

       Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the blacksmith

       Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no language;

       All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as the vapors

       Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter.

      Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table,

       Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home-brewed

       Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pré;

       While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhorn,

       Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties,

       Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in cattle.

       Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed,

       And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the margin.

       Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on the table