The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1895-09-25
dying, EGYPT, DYING"
A Comrades and q FOeman's Trib.
ute 10 the Author.


A gentleman acquainted with Colonel
Realf, relates story told by hlm when the
two spent night In conversation, criticisms
and recollections, over cosy hre and warm
decoctions. He spoke Of the nisht before the
battle at which General w. s. Lytle fell
They were both given 10 writing poetry, and
each had an unfinished poem on hand, and
they read and criticized each others efforts
humorously for sometime, when Lyle said
"Realf, l shall never live to finish thai
Nonsense" said I, "you will live to write
"A feeling has suddenly come over me,
snR es ssn plopSse
killed in tomorrow's light. AS spoke to you
/ saw the green hills OF the Ohio. as If stood
them They began 10 resede IRON
conviction flashed through me, Ike the light
ning's shock, that I would never see them
III rallied him for his superstition. but the
belief had become strangely impressed upon
me With his own unnatural fear, that l beg
ged him 10 finish his poem before he slept.
"In the small hours the general awakened
me from slumbsr, into which I had fallen
to read to me that beautiful poem, which
must live as long as our literature survives.
my eyes filled with tears as he read: He
said not word as he concluded, placed the
manuscript In his pocket and lay down te
When I next saw poor Lytle he was cold IN
death, among heaps Of slain. thought o.
the poem, and, searching the pocket where
had seen him put 1t, drew J., forth, II is as fol-
lows:
am dying, Egypt dying
Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast,
And the dark Plutonian shadows,
Gather on the evening blast;
Let thine arms, oh Queen, support me-.
Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear
Listen 10 the great heart secrets
Thou, and thou alone must hear.
Tho my SCARED and vert'ran IegIons
Bear their eagles high NO more.
Tho my wreck'd and shatter'd galleys
Strew dark Actium's fatal shore;
Tho no glitt'rng guards surround me,
Prompt TO do their masters Will,
must perish like Roman,
Die, the great Triumvir still.
Let not Casar's servile minIons
Mock the lion thus laid low,
Twas no foeman' g hand that slew him,
TWAS his own that dealt the blow;
Hear, then, pillowed on thy bosom,
Ere his star shall lose It's ray.
Him who. drunk with thy caresses.
Madly flung WORD away.
Should the base ,plebeian rabble,
Dare assail my fame at Rome:
Where my noble spouse, OltavIa,
SEX Mefps be1 xssin s sS
Altars, augurs, e9fcii ngy yYlttgs.
That her blood with mid IeeOm mtDgled,
Yet shall mount the throne OF Kings.
And tor thee, star-eyed Egyptian,
Glorious soceress Of the Nile,
Light my path TO Stygian horrors.
With the splepdor OF thy smile;
Give this Cesar clowns and arches,
bet his brow :the lanrel twine;
can scorn theSenGte's triumpns-
..Triumphing In love like thine.
lam dying, Egypt, dying
Hark! Th' Insulting foe1nan's cry;
They are coming! Quick fmy ,falchlon
Let me front them ere I die.
An! no more amid the battle
Shall my heart exulting swell
Isis and Osiris guard thee,
Cleopatra! Rome! Farewell!
In reference to death Of the author Of this
poem, Governor Oates ln' his speech at the
dedication OF the National Park OF Chicka-
mauga. on September 90, 1885, said:
"There fell before the fire of my. regiment
that accomplished aud lamented soldier and
poet General Lytle. author of Spying,
Egypt, Dying" saw him lying on the field
OF battle before life was quite extinct With
my own hands drew him from the sunshine,
which fell In his face, TO the shade OF tree
q ear by"