Page:Persian Literature (1900), vol. 1.djvu/170

 firm earth shook: the dust, in eddies driven, Whirled high in air, obscured the face of heaven; Nor earth, nor sky appeared--all, seeming lost, And swallowed up by that wide-spreading host. The steely armour glitter'd o'er the fields,[29] And lightnings flash'd from gold emblazoned shields; Thou wouldst have said, the clouds had burst in showers, Of sparkling amber o'er the martial powers.[30] Thus, close embodied, they pursued their way, And reached the Barrier-fort in terrible array.

The legions of Túrán, with dread surprise, Saw o'er the plain successive myriads rise; And showed them to Sohráb; he, mounting high The fort, surveyed them with a fearless eye; To Húmán, who, with withering terror pale, Had marked their progress through the distant vale, He pointed out the sight, and ardent said:-- "Dispel these woe-fraught broodings from thy head, I wage the war, Afrásiyáb! for thee,  And make this desert seem a rolling sea." Thus, while amazement every bosom quell'd, Sohráb, unmoved, the coming storm beheld, And boldly gazing on the camp around, Raised high the cup with wine nectareous crowned: O'er him no dreams of woe insidious stole, No thought but joy engaged his ardent soul.

The Persian legions had restrained their course, Tents and pavilions, countless foot and horse, Clothed all the spacious plain, and gleaming threw Terrific splendours on the gazer's view. But when the Sun had faded in the west, And night assumed her ebon-coloured vest, The mighty Chief approached the sacred throne, And generous thus made danger all his own: "The rules of war demand a previous task, To watch this dreadful foe I boldly ask;  With wary step the wondrous youth to view,  And mark the heroes who his path pursue." The King assents: "The task is justly thine, Favourite of heaven, inspired by power divine." In Turkish habit, secretly arrayed, The lurking Champion wandered through the shade And, cautious, standing near the palace gate, Saw how the chiefs were ranged in princely state.

What time Sohráb his thoughts to battle turned, And for the first proud fruits of conquest burned,