The Last Ode

by Rudyard Kipling

　　

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As watchers couched beneath a Bantine oak, Hearing the dawn-wind stir, Know that the present strength of night is broke Though no dawn threaten her Till dawn's appointed hour, so Virgil died, Aware of change at hand, and prophesied Change upon all the Eternal Gods had made And on the Gods alike, Fated as dawn but, as the dawn, delayed Till the just hour should strike. A Star new-risen above the living and dead; And the lost shades that were our loves restored As lovers, and for ever. So he said; Having received the word... Maecenas waits me on the Esquiline: Thither to-night go I.... And shall this dawn restore us, Virgil mine To dawn? Beneath what sky?

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