Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1882-01-13
A HISTORIC POEM.

| Toledo Sunday Joornal.
General Lyttle wrote his grent poem
Cleopatra" the night before he was
killed In battle. and under the influence oI
strong premonition of his approaching
death. The story, as told by his poet
friend and eomradc, Colonel Rcalf,
will account, in large part for the singular
blending OF the horic and supersliions
that animates the poem. As Colonel Reali
tells the story, he aud General Lyitle were
lying in the Generals tent, criticising hu.
morously eacll others latest efforts, when
the latter referring to the unfinished poem,
"Cleopotra," said:
"Realf, shall never live 10 finish that
poem"
Nonsense" said his friend, "You will
live 10 write volumes OF such stuff"
"A feeling has suddenly come over me-"
continued the General, solemnly, (which
is more startling than prophecy, that
sl,a Il be killed in lo.morrow's fight. AS
spoke to you saw the green hills OF the
Ohio as If stood among them. They be-
gan to recede from me in wierd way, and
as they disappeared the conviction flashed
through me like the ligbtning's shock
that would never see them again."
Colonel Realf rallied his friend for his
superstition but the belief had become 40
fixed IN his mind ns to thrill his listener
with his own unnatural fear. The Colonel
then begged him 10 finish the poem before
he slept, that such fine work might not
be lost. In the small hours of the night
General Lyttle awoke his friend from n
sound slumber and read to him the poem
as j, now appears, then folding il placed il,
in his pocket and fell asleep. Before the
dawn, came the call to arms, and
when Realf next beheld his comrade he
was cold in death among the heaps of the
slain. Taking the poem from his pocket
he forwarded ii, among other things, TO his
friends. 1t will now be read with new
interest, in le light OF the pathetic cir
cumstances attending lis composition:
am dying, Egypt, dying!
EDDs the crllllSOh liiet1ue laS,
And the dark Plutonian shadows
Gather on the evening blast;
Let thine arm, o Queen, enioid me,
Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear,
Listen to the great heart secrets,
Thou, and lliou alone, must hear.
Thoug, my SCARED and veteran legions,
Bear their eagles nigh no more,
And my wrecked and scattered galleys
Sirew dark Actium's fatal shore;
Though no gliltering guard surround me
Prompt to do their masters will,
must perish like a Roman,
Die the great Triumvir still.
Let not Caesars servile minions
Mock the lion thus made low;
Twas no foeman's arm that felled him,
Twas his own that struck the blow
His who pillowed on thy bosom,
Turned aside from gIory's ray
He who, drunk with thy cnresses,
Madly threw world away.
Should the base plebian rabbe
Dare assail my name at Rome,
When the noble spouse, Octavin,
Weeps within her widowed home,
Seek her; say the gods bear witness,
Alters, augurs, circiing wings,
Thai her blood, with mine commingled,
Yet shall mount to thrones OF kings.
And for thee, star-eyed Egyr titan!
Glorious sorceress of the Nile,
Light the path to Stygian horrors
With the splendors of they smile.
Give the Cesar crowns and arches,
Let his brow the laurel twine;
can scorn the Senaie's triumphs,
Triumping in love like thine.
am dying, Egypt, dying,
Hark, the insulting foeman's cry;
| They are coming quick, my ialchion,
Let me front them ere die.
All, no more amid the battle
Shall my heart exulting swell
| Isis and OSIRIS guard thee
Cleopatra, Eome, farewell!