Oppressed with grief, oppressed with care,
A burden more than I can bear,
I sit me down and sigh:
O life! thou art a galling load,
Along a rough, a weary road,
To wretches such as I!
Dim, backward, as I cast my view,
What sick’ning scenes appear!—
What sorrows yet may pierce me through,
Too justly, I may fear!