SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
And In the midst a stubble, short and bare—
So on each side were squares of men, with spears
Bristling, and in the midst, the open sand.
And Rustum came upon the sand, and cast
His eyes towards the Tartar tents, and saw 3°°
Sohrab come forth, and eyed him as he came.
As some rich woman, on a winter's morn.
Eyes through her silken curtains the poor drudge
Who with numb blacken*d fingers makes her fire—
At cock-crow, on a starlit winter's morn, 3°5
When the frost'flowers the whiten'd window-panes—
And wonders how she lives, and what the thoughts
Of that poor drudge may be; so Rustum eyed
The unknown adventurous youth, who from afar
Came seeking Rustum, and defying forth 31C
All the most valiant chiefs; long he perused
His spirited air, and wonder'd who he was.
For very young he seem'd, tenderly rear'd;
Like some young cypress, tall, dark, and straight,
Which in a queen's secluded garden throws 3*5
Its slight dark shadow on the moonlit turf,
By midnight, to a bubbling fountain's sound—
So slender Sohrab seem'd, so softly rearM.
And a deep pity enter'd Rustum's soul
As he beheld him coming; and he stood, 32°
And beckon'd to him his hand, and said: —
"O thou young man, the air of heaven is soft,
And warm, and pleasant; but the grave is cold!
Heaven's air is better than the cold dead grave.
Behold me! I am vast, and clad in iron, 325
And tried; and I have stood on many a field
Of blood, and I have fought with many a foe—
Never was that field lost, or that foe saved.
O Sohrab, wherefore wilt thou rush on death ?
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