The strong emotion choked her panting breath, Her veins seemed withered by the cold of death: The trembling matrons hastening round her mourned, With piercing cries, till fluttering life returned; Then gazing up, distraught, she wept again, And frantic, seeing 'midst her pitying train, The favourite steed--now more than ever dear, The hoofs she kissed, and bathed with many a tear; Clasping the mail Sohráb in battle wore, With burning lips she kissed it o'er and o'er; His martial robes she in her arms comprest, And like an infant strained them to her breast; The reins, and trappings, club, and spear, were brought, The sword, and shield, with which the Stripling fought, These she embraced with melancholy joy, In sad remembrance of her darling boy. And still she beat her face, and o'er them hung, As in a trance--or to them wildly clung-- Day after day she thus indulged her grief, Night after night, disdaining all relief; At length worn out--from earthly anguish riven, The mother's spirit joined her child in Heaven. THE STORY OF SAIÁWUSH Early one morning as the cock crew, Tús arose, and accompanied by Gíw and Gúdarz and a company of horsemen, proceeded on a hunting excursion, not far from the banks of the Jihún, where, after ranging about the forest for some time, they happened to fall in with a damsel of extreme beauty, with smiling lips, blooming cheeks, and fascinating mien. They said to her: "Never was seen so sweet a flower, In garden, vale, or fairy bower; The moon is on thy lovely face, Thy cypress-form is full of grace; But why, with charms so soft and meek, Dost thou the lonely forest seek?" She replied that her father was a violent man, and that she had left her home to escape his anger. She had crossed the river Jihún, and had travelled several leagues on foot, in consequence of her horse being too much fatigued to bear her farther. She had at that time been three days in the forest. On being questioned respecting her parentage, she said her father's name was Shíwer, of the race of Feridún. Many sovereigns had been suitors for her hand, but she did not approve of one of them. At last he wanted to marry her to Poshang, the ruler of Túrán, but she refused him on account of his ugliness and bad temper! This she said was the cause of her father's violence, and of her flight from home. "But when his angry mood is o'er, He'll love his daughter as before; And send his horsemen far and near, To take me to my mother dear; Therefore, I would not further stray, But here, without a murmur, stay."