Ruksh, the horse,
  With his head bowing to the ground, and mane
  Sweeping the dust, came near, and in mute woe
  First to the one then to the other mov’d 730
  His head, as if enquiring what their grief
  Might mean; and from his dark, compassionate eyes,
  The big warm tears roll’d down, and cak’d the sand. 
  But Rustum chid him with stern voice, and said:—­

  “Ruksh, now thou grievest; but, O Ruksh, thy feet 735
  Should then have rotted on thy nimble joints,
  When first they bore thy master to this field.”

  But Sohrab look’d upon the horse and said:—­
  “Is this then Ruksh?  How often, in past days,
  My mother told me of thee, thou brave steed! 740
  My terrible father’s terrible horse; and said,
  That I should one day find thy lord and thee,
  Come, let me lay my hand upon thy mane. 
  O Ruksh, thou art more fortunate than I;
  For thou hast gone where I shall never go, 745
  And snuff’d the breezes of my father’s home. 
  And thou hast trod the sands of Seistan,
  And seen the river of Helmund,[44] and the lake
  Of Zirrah; and the aged Zal himself
  Has often strok’d thy neck, and given thee food, 750
  Corn in a golden platter soak’d with wine,
  And said—­’O Ruksh! bear Rustum well!’—­but I
  Have never known my grandsire’s furrow’d face,
  Nor seen his lofty house in Seistan,
  Nor slak’d my thirst at the clear Helmund stream; 755
  But lodg’d among my father’s foes, and seen
  Afrasiab’s cities only, Samarcand,
  Bokhara, and lone Khiva in the waste,
  And the black Toorkmun tents; and only drunk
  The desert rivers, Moorghab and Tejend, 760
  Kohik, and where the Kalmuks feed their sheep,
  The northern Sir;[45] and this great Oxus stream—­
  The yellow Oxus, by whose brink I die.”

  And, with a heavy groan, Rustum replied:—­
  “Oh that its waves were flowing over me! 765
  Oh that I saw its grains of yellow silt[46]
  Roll tumbling in the current o’er my head!”

[Sohrab’s dying wish.  “Draw off your forces; build for me a memorial pillar in Seistan.”  He foretells the death of Rustum.]

  And, with a grave mild voice, Sohrab replied:—­
  “Desire not that, my father; thou must live. 
  For some are born to do great deeds, and live, 770
  As some are born to be obscur’d, and die. 
  Do thou the deeds I die too young to do,
  And reap a second glory in thine age. 
  Thou art my father, and thy gain is mine,
  But come:  thou seest this great host of men 775
  Which follow me; I pray thee, slay not these: 
  Let me entreat for them:  what have they done? 
  They follow’d me, my hope, my fame, my star. 
  Let them all cross the Oxus back in peace.