SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
And I will spare thy host; yea, let them go!
Let them all cross the Oxus back in peace \
What should I do with slaying any more ?
For would that all whom I have ever slain
Might be once more alive; my bitterest foes, 810
And they who were call'd champions in their time,
And through whose death I won that fame I have—
And I were nothing but a common man,
A poor, mean soldier, and without renown,
So thou mightest live too, my son, my son ! 815
Or rather would that I, even I myself,
Might now be lying on this bloody sand,
Near death, and by an ignorant stroke of thine,
rNot thou of mine! and I might die, not thou;
And I, not thou, be borne to Seistan; 820
And Zal might weep above my grave, not thine;
And say: *O son, I weep thee not too sore,
For willingly, I know, thou met'st thine end!J
But now in blood and battles was my youth,
And full of blood and battles in my age, 825
And I shall never end this life of blood."
Then, at the point of death, Sohrab replied :—
"A life of blood indeed, thou dreadful man !
But thou shalt yet have peace; only not now,
Not yet! but thou shalt have it on that day 830
When thou shalt sail in a high-masted ship,
Thou and the other peers of Kai Khosroo,
Returning home over the salt blue sea,
From laying thy dear master in his grave."
And Rustum gazed in Sohrab's face, and said :—
"Soon be that day, my son, and deep that sea ! 836
Till then, if fate so wills, let me endure/'
He spoke; and Sohrab smiled on him, and took
spear, and drew it from his side, and eased
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