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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Or is it that, oppress'd with care, I stun with loud complaints thine ear, And make thy home, for quiet meant, The seat of noise and discontent? Ah no!
She does not see him again for forty years, when he returns, like Arden, to his "native bay," "A worn-out man with wither'd limbs and lame, His mind oppress'd with woes, and bent with age his frame." She is now a widow, with grown-up children scattered through the world, and is alone. Allen then tells his sad story.
It was then necessary for Moses to find the people of Israel slaves in Ægypt, and oppress'd by the Ægyptians, to the end that they to get out of their thraldome, should bee willing to follow him. It was fit that Romulus should not be kept in Albia, but expos'd presently after his birth, that he might become King of Rome, and founder of that City.
"I have the honor to be their very devoted, much obliged, and grateful Servant, "The itinerant cosmopolite, to use his own phraseology, accuses me with being lame I reply, so was Lord Byron; and why not a 'Star from Dromcoloher' be similarly honored, for If God, one member has oppress'd, He has made more perfect all the rest.
Who is it copies Talbot's better part, To ease th' oppress'd, and raise the sinking heart? But Talbot's fairest eulogy was penned by his son's tutor, Alexander Thomson a poet who had no reason to feel gratitude to Talbot's official successor.
Trimalchio abash'd at the challenge; "My friends," said he, "even servants are men; and however oppress'd by ill luck, sucked the same milk our selves did; and for mine, it shall not be long e're I make them free without prejudice to my self: to be short, I enfranchise all of them by my last will and testament.
Perhaps, if the souls of the just Revisit these mansions of care, It may be my favourite trust To watch o'er the fate of the fair. Perhaps the soft thought of her breast, With rapture more favour'd to warm; Perhaps, if with sorrow oppress'd, Her sorrow with patience to arm.
Thy genius active, strong, and clear, Thy wit sublime, though not severe, The social ardour, void of art, That glows within thy candid heart; My spirits, sense, and strength decay, My resolution dies away, And, every faculty oppress'd, Almighty love invades my breast!
"Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne, While the fair captive, mark'd with many a scar, In lone obscurity, oppress'd, forlorn, Resigns to tears her angel form."
He goes to supper with the rest, But, lest his stomach be oppress'd, He saves at least a piece of bread Till just before he goes to bed; So last of all the wretched Slug Has room to drive another plug.
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