The speaker is someone who has finally stopped fighting death. She calls death “the old enemy,” but now the rebellion is over. There is nothing left to resist. Battles may have had their share of music and drama, but this kind of peace is silent, like a windless night. Because of that, she makes no songs; she has grown sure that death—unless it arrives too soon—is a friend. The closing image turns death into a shepherd guiding his flock home under the evening planet, calm and inevitable. The mood is quiet, tired, and strangely gentle. There is no celebration, only the hush of acceptance, as if a long argument has finally ended and the speaker can lay down her weapons.
The Old Enemy — Summary
Rebellion against death, the old rebellion Is over; I have nothing left to fight; Battles have always had their meed of music But peace is quiet as a windless night. Therefore I make no songs--I have grown certain Save when he comes too late, death is a friend, A shepherd leading home his flock serenely Under the planet at the evening’s end.