Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/123

Rh With the snow-headed Zal, and all my friends.

And I will lay thee in that lovely earth,

And heap a stately mound above thy bones,

And plant a far-seen pillar over all,

And men shall not forget thee in thy grave.

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,

And they who were called 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!

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,

Not thou of mine! and I might die, not thou;

And I, not thou, be borne to Seistan;

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!

But now in blood and battles was my youth,

And full of blood and battles is my age,

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,

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."