The oppressor’s wrong, the victor’s contumely,
The pangs of despised race, their rights’ delay,
The insolence of conquest, and the spurns,
The patient fellah (fellow) of the unkindly takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bayonet? Should we burdens bear,
To pay stockjobbers and their risks to share,
But that the hope of something afterwards,
The undiscovered but expected boon,
The speculator’s rich return, pleases the will