The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1882-01-07
An Old Poem and It's History.

A correspondent of the Inter Ocean
writes:
Doubtless many of our readers have
read General w. S. Lytle's fine poem,
Cleopatra, written the night before
the battle in which he was killed. The
Pittsburg Leader relates the romantic
circumstances under which it was writ
ten. They were told, by the late
Colonel Realf to a gentleman. He
spoke Of the night before the battle at
which General Lytle fell. The two
(Realf and Lytle) lay together in the
Generals tent. They were both givcn
to writing poetry at such times, and
each had an unfinished poem on hand,
and they read and criticised each 9TH
er's efforts humorously for some time,
when said Lytle:
"Realf, shall never live to finish
that poem"
Nonsense" said |, 'you will live TO
write volumes of such stuff
"a feeling has suddenly come over
me-" continued the General solemnly,
which is more startling than a pro-
phecy, that | shall be killed in to-mor-
rows fight. As spoke to you l saw
the green hills of the Ohio as if l stood
among them. They began to recede
from me in weird way, and as they
disappeared the conviction flashed
through me like the lightning's shock
that / would never see them again."
l rallied him for his superstition, but
the belief had become strangely im-
pressed upon his mind. and he succeed
ed in so far thrilling me with his own
unnatural fear, that l begged him to
finish his poem before he slept, that
such fine work might not be lost to the
world.
In the small hours the General awak-
ened me from slumber into which
had fallen, to read me that beautiful
poem, which must live rs long rs our
literature survives, beginning:
am dying, Egypt dying,
Ebbs the crimson lifc-blood fast.
My eyes filled with tears as he read.
He said not word as he concluded,
but placed the manuscript in his pocket
and lay down TO sleep.
Before dawn came the call to arms.
When | next saw poor Lyle he was
cold in death among heaps of slain. l
thought of the poem, and searching
the pocket where | had seen him put
it, drew il forth, and il was forwarded
among other things to his friends.
am dying, Egypt, dyngl
Ehbs the crimson llfotidc fast,
And the dark Plutonian shadows
Gather ON the evening blast; tt
Let thine arm, o Queen, enfold me,
Hush thy sobs and bow thine eur,
Listen 10 the great heart secrets
Thou, aud thou alone, must hear.
Though my Scared and veteran legions
Bear their eagles high no more,
And my wrecked and scattered galcys
Strcw dark Actiums fatal shore;
Though no RlittcrinR guard surround mo,
Prompt to do their masters WILL
mud perish like n Roman,
Die tho great Triumvir stu.
Let not Caesars servile minons
Mock the lion thus made low:
Twas no fOcmnn's arm that fcllcd him,
Twas his own that struck the blow
His who, pillowed on thy bosom,
Turned aside from gory's ray
He who drunk with my caresscS,
Mndly threw world away.
Should the base plobian rabblc
Daro assail my name M Rome,
When the noble spouse, 0ctavia.
Wecps within her widowed homo,
Seek her. say the gods bear witness,
Affairs, augirs, crcling wings,
That her blood, with mino comminglcd,
Yet shall mount TO thrones Of kings.
And Tor thee. starcycd Eggplant M
Glorious sources OF the Milo, MM
Light the path TO Styginn horrors
With the splcndors OF thy smile
nlss.. th..r tsksag ers.xx ma an linn