Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Africa: Vol. XXIV. 1876–79.
Death of Antony
By William Haines Lytle (18261863)I
Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast,
And the dark Plutonian shadows
Gather on the evening blast.
Let thine arm, O queen, support me!
Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear,
Hearken to the great heart secrets,
Thou, and thou alone, must hear.
Bear their eagles high no more,
And my wrecked and shattered galleys
Strew dark Actium’s fatal shore;
Though no glittering guards surround me,
Prompt to do their master’s will,
I must perish like a Roman,—
Die the great Triumvir still.
Mock the lion thus laid low;
’T was no foeman’s hand that slew him,
’T was his own that struck the blow.
Hear, then, pillowed on thy bosom,
Ere his star fades quite away,
Him who, drunk with thy caresses,
Madly flung a world away!
Dare assail my fame at Rome,
Where the noble spouse, Octavia,
Weeps within her widowed home.
Seek her,—say the gods have told me,
Altars, augurs, circling wings,
That her blood, with mine commingled,
Yet shall mount the throne of kings.
Glorious sorceress of the Nile,
Light the path to Stygian horrors
With the splendors of thy smile.
Give the Cæsar crowns and arches,
Let his brow the laurel twine;
I can scorn the Senate’s triumphs,
Triumphing in love like thine.
Hark! the insulting foeman’s cry:
They are coming,—quick, my falchion!
Let me front them ere I die.
Ah! no more amid the battle
Shall my heart exulting swell;
Isis and Osiris guard thee,—
Cleopatra! Rome! farewell!