Then, at the point of death, Sohrab replied: "A life of blood indeed, thou dreadful Unwillingly the spirit fled away, man! Till now all strength was ebbed, and from his limbs, But thou shalt yet have peace; only not Regretting the warm mansion which it left, 855 White, with eyes closed; only when heavy Out of the mist and hum of that low land, gasps, Into the frosty starlight, and there moved, Deep heavy gasps quivering through all Rejoicing, through the hushed Chorasmian his frame, 850 Convulsed him back to life, he opened them, And fixed them feebly on his father's face; waste, Under the solitary moon; - he flowed Right for the polar star, past Orgunjè, 880 Brimming, and bright, and large; then sands began spare, Thy dark vague eyes, and soft abstracted Wrapt in thy cloak and battling with the air snow, That thou wert wandered from the studious walls To learn strange arts, and join a gipsytribe; And thou from earth art gone 135 In autumn, on the skirts of Bagley Long since, and in some quiet churchyard Wood Where most the gipsies by the turf-edged way Pitch their smoked tents, and every bush you see With scarlet patches tagged and shreds of gray, Above the forest-ground called Thessaly The blackbird, picking food, laid 115 Sees thee, nor stops his meal, nor fears at all; So often has he known thee past hin stray, 140 No, no, thou hast not felt the lapse of hours! For what wears out the life of mortal men? 'Tis that from change to change their being rolls; |