Page:The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling (IA cu31924057346631).pdf/27

 And now he passes in the drifting mist, A shadow amid shadows. I alone Retain a lasting form, or seem to do. Claudius Herminius, once a trusty friend, Is fleeting like the others. Is there none To stay and give me peace? Ixion now Had eased me, for he beareth greater pain; But all alone upon these crumbling banks, False as the world I left, how shall I be, Or rather cease from being? Could I lose My soul, sensation, all that makes me, I, Oblivion were thrice blessèd. Lo! the boat Is moving toward me&mdash;now at least is change. Slowly, oh! slowly parts the stagnant flood, And slow as is repentance, Charon rows! 7