to him, his horse Zoora, in old times. Presently the youth revived
somewhat, and looked upon her; but his sight was glazed with a film, and
she sang her name to him ere he knew her, and the sad sweetness of her
name filled his soul, and he replied to her with it weakly, like a far
echo that groweth fainter, 'Bhanavar! Bhanavar! Bhanavar!' Then a
change came over him, and the pain of the poison and the passion of the
death-throe, and he was wistful of her no more; but she lay by him,
embracing him, and in the last violence of his anguish he hugged her to
his breast. Then it was over, and he sank. And the twain were as a
great wave heaving upon the shore; lo, part is wasted where it falleth;
part draweth back into the waters. So was it!

Now the chill of dawn breathed blue on the lake and was astir among the
dewy leaves of the wood, when Bhanavar arose from the body of the youth,
and as she rose she saw that his mare Zoora, his father's first gift, was
snuffing at the ear of her dead master, and pawing him. At that sight
the tears poured from her eyelids, and she sobbed out to the mare, 'O
Zoora! never mare bore nobler burden on her back than thou in Zurvan my
betrothed. Zoora! thou weepest, for death is first known to thee in the
dearest thing that was thine; as to me, in the dearest that was mine!
And O Zoora, steed of Zurvan my betrothed, there's no loveliness for us
in life, for the loveliest is gone; and let us die, Zoora, mare of Zurvan
my betrothed, for what is dying to us, O Zoora, who cherish beyond all
that which death has taken?'

So spake she to Zoora the mare, kissing her, and running her fingers
through the long white mane of the mare. Then she stooped to the body of
her betrothed, and toiled with it to lift it across the crimson saddle-
cloth that was on the back of Zoora; and the mare knelt to her, that she
might lay on her back the body of Zurvan; when that was done, Bhanavar