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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345932" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Port Phillip Patriot</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, what a wretched, loathsome, thing am I, <br>Too horrible for earth, or the pure heaven, <br>Or the bright stars, or the blue smiling sky,-- <br>To look upon again. <br>Wrap me, oh wrap me, midnight, in your shades; <br>Shroud me, ye darkness, in your thickest folds; <br>Oh bury me, ye forests, in your glades, <br>Which mortal ne'er beholds. <br>For I am lost, utterly lost, <br>Cast like the scum upon the wave, <br>To be for ever wildly tossed, <br>Till mercy sends a grave. <br>Hark! now I hear the brutal savage cry-- <br>How horrid sounds to me his barbarous tongue! <br>I know the words--some wretch is doomed to die, <br>His tortures are begun. <br>And see, the savage chief draws near. <br>He lays his hand--the fiend--on me, <br>He speaks of love; my eyes are sere, <br>I cannot weep, I dare not flee. <br>His brutal arm is round me thrown; <br>A sickness o'er my senses steals; <br>My eyeballs swim; <br>My vision reels; <br>I seem to him <br>But a cold corpse alone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The scene is changed, and I am left alone; <br>'Tis moonlight,--I would fly, but where, oh, where; <br>This isle is small, and every spot is known; <br>Beyond the ocean forms a barrier there. <br>Ah me! I gazed into a glassy stream, <br>And straight sprang back with horror and affright; <br>Was it a phantom, or some hideous dream? <br>Or what was that most foul appalling sight? <br>Alas! twas me, but all bespattered o'er, <br>With fat of victims, and with human gore, <br>With some foul preparation they had dyed <br>My skin that once with lillies would have vied, <br>And they had painted me all o'er, like something <br>Of their own horrid, wild, imagining. <br>And now, the warriors say that I am fair, <br>And that they love me for a forest bride, <br>That they will feed me with sweet morsels rare, <br>And clothe me in soft skins, if I abide. <br>Oh, thou pale moon, that lookest down so calm-- <br>If 'tis the truth, as I have heard them say, <br>That when poor love-lorn maidens go astray, <br>And quick are stung with terror and alarm-- <br>That thou wilt look on them, and they straight forget <br>All they had known, of sorrows and of crimes; <br>And tho' some call them moon-struck maniacs, yet-- <br>They are so happy, thoughtless of past times. <br>Oh then, on me, they fellest influence dart; <br>Madden, in mercy madden, this poor brain; <br>Oh give forgetfulness, to this sad heart, <br>Of what is past, and I will smile again; <br>And sing, and dare the fiends to do their worst, <br>Who made me what I am, accurst, accurst.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Oceania">Anonymous Oceania</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345932" data-title="The Port Phillip Patriot de Anonymous Oceania" data-description="Oh, what a wretched, loathsome, thing am I, 
Too horrible for earth, or the pure heaven, 
Or the bright stars, or the blue smiling sky,-- 
To look upon again. 
Wrap me, oh wrap me, midnight, in your shades; 
Shroud me, ye darkness, in your thickes..."></div>
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