Quote#Death
So, on the bloody sand, Sohrab lay dead
Quote byMatthew Arnold · 1822–1888
Commonly attributed — not confirmed in an authoritative edition. Cited on Wikiquote to: Sohrab and Rustum (1853), Line 857.
English (original)
So, on the bloody sand, Sohrab lay dead. And the great Rustum drew his horseman’s cloak Down o’er his face, and sate by his dead son. As those black granite pillars, once high-rear’d By Jemshid in Persepolis, to bear His house, now, mid their broken flights of steps, Lie prone, enormous, down the mountain side — So in the sand lay Rustum by his son.
— Matthew Arnold
More from Matthew Arnold
A God, a God their severance ruled! And bade betwixt their shores to be The unplumb'd, salt, estranging sea.
Yes: in the sea of life enisl’d, With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone.
We cannot kindle when we will The fire that in the heart resides, The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides; — But tasks, in hours of insight willed, Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled.
I keep saying, Shakspeare, Shakspeare, you are as obscure as life is.
Calm soul of all things! make it mine To feel, amid the city’s jar, That there abides a peace of thine, Man did not make, and cannot mar.
With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day and wish’t were done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built do we discern.