NARRATIVE POEMS




SOHRAB AND RUSTUM°

AN EPISODE


And the first grey of morning fill'd the east,° °1
And the fog rose out of the Oxus° stream. °2
But all the Tartar camp° along the stream °3
Was hush'd, and still the men were plunged in sleep;
Sohrab alone, he slept not; all night long 5
He had lain wakeful, tossing on his bed;
But when the grey dawn stole into his tent,
He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword,
And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent,
And went abroad into the cold wet fog, 10
Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's° tent. °11

Through the black Tartar tents he pass'd, which stood
Clustering like bee-hives on the low flat strand
Of Oxus, where the summer-floods o'erflow
When the sun melts the snows in high Pamere° °15
Through the black tents he pass'd, o'er that low strand,