The sun, by this, had risen, and clear’d the fog
  From the broad Oxus and the glittering sands: 
  And from their tents the Tartar horsemen fil’d,
  Into the open plain; so Haman bade;
  Haman, who next to Peran-Wisa rul’d 105
  The host, and still was in his lusty prime. 
  From their black tents, long files of horse, they stream’d: 
  As when, some grey November morn, the files,
  In marching order spread, of long-neck’d cranes,
  Stream over Casbin,[11] and the southern slopes 110
  Of Elburz,[12] from the Aralian estuaries,[13]
  Or some frore[14] Caspian reed-bed, southward bound
  For the warm Persian sea-board:  so they stream’d. 
  The Tartars of the Oxus, the King’s guard,
  First with black sheep-skin caps and with long spears; 115
  Large men, large steeds, who from Bokhara[15] come
  And Khiva, and ferment the milk of mares.[16]
  Next the more temperate Toorkmuns of the south,[17]
  The Tukas, and the lances of Salore,
  And those from Attruck[18] and the Caspian sands; 120
  Light men, and on light steeds, who only drink
  The acrid milk of camels, and their wells. 
  And then a swarm of wandering horse, who came
  From far, and a more doubtful service[19] own’d;
  The Tartars of Ferghana, from the banks 125
  Of the Jaxartes, men with scanty beards
  And close-set skull-caps; and those wilder hordes
  Who roam o’er Kipchak and the northern waste,
  Kalmuks and unkemp’d Kuzzaks,[20] tribes who stray
  Nearest the Pole, and wandering Kirghizzes, 130
  Who come on shaggy ponies from Pamere. 
  These all fil’d out from camp into the plain,
  And on the other side the Persians form’d: 
  First a light cloud of horse, Tartars they seem’d,
  The Ilyats of Khorassan:[21] and behind, 135
  The royal troops of Persia, horse and foot,
  Marshall’d battalions bright in burnish’d steel. 
  But Peran-Wisa with his herald came
  Threading the Tartar squadrons to the front,
  And with his staff kept back the foremost ranks. 140
  And when Ferood, who led the Persians, saw
  That Peran-Wisa kept the Tartars back,
  He took his spear, and to the front he came,
  And check’d his ranks, and fix’d them where they stood. 
  And the old Tartar came upon the sand 145
  Betwixt the silent hosts, and spake, and said:—­

[Peran-Wisa calls on the Persians to find a champion, and Gudurz agrees to do so.]

  “Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear! 
  Let there be truce between the hosts to-day. 
  But choose a champion from the Persian lords
  To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man.” 150

  As, in the country, on a morn in June,
  When the dew glistens on the pearled ears,
  A shiver runs through the deep corn for Joy—–­
  So, when they heard what Peran-Wisa said,
  A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran 155
  Of pride and hope for Sohrab, whom they lov’d.