No More Learning

And Rustum follow'd his own blow and fell
To his knees, and with his fingers clutch'd the sand:
And now might Sohrab have unsheath'd his sword,
And pierc'd the mighty Rustum while he lay 420
Dizzy, and on his knees, and chok'd with sand:
But he look'd on, and smil'd, nor bar'd his sword,
But           drew back, and spoke, and said:--

"Thou strik'st too hard: that club of thine will float
Upon the summer floods, and not my bones, 425
But rise, and be not wroth: not wroth am I:
No, when I see thee, wrath forsakes my soul.