Ere from his lofty sphere the morn had thrown His glittering radiance, and in splendour shone, The mindful Champion, from his sinewy arm, His bracelet drew, the soul-ennobling charm; And, as he held the wondrous gift with pride, He thus address'd his love-devoted bride! "Take this," he said, "and if, by gracious heaven, A daughter for thy solace should be given, Let it among her ringlets be displayed, And joy and honour will await the maid; But should kind fate increase the nuptial-joy, And make thee mother of a blooming boy, Around his arm this magic bracelet bind, To fire with virtuous deeds his ripening mind; The strength of Sám will nerve his manly form, In temper mild, in valour like the storm; His not the dastard fate to shrink, or turn From where the lions of the battle burn; To him the soaring eagle from the sky Will stoop, the bravest yield to him, or fly; Thus shall his bright career imperious claim The well-won honours of immortal fame!" Ardent he said, and kissed her eyes and face, And lingering held her in a fond embrace. When the bright sun his radiant brow displayed, And earth in all its loveliest hues arrayed, The Champion rose to leave his spouse's side, The warm affections of his weeping bride. For her, too soon the winged moments flew, Too soon, alas! the parting hour she knew; Clasped in his arms, with many a streaming tear, She tried, in vain, to win his deafen'd ear; Still tried, ah fruitless struggle! to impart, The swelling anguish of her bursting heart. The father now with gratulations due Rustem approaches, and displays to view The fiery war-horse--welcome as the light Of heaven, to one immersed in deepest night; The Champion, wild with joy, fits on the rein, And girds the saddle on his back again; Then mounts, and leaving sire and wife behind, Onward to Sístán rushes like the wind. But when returned to Zábul's friendly shade, None knew what joys the Warrior had delayed; Still, fond remembrance, with endearing thought, Oft to his mind the scene of rapture brought.