Winding so high, that, as they mount, they pass
Long flocks of travelling birds dead on the snow,
Choked by the air; and scarce can they themselves
Slake their parch’d throats with sugar’d mulberries—
In single file they move, and stop their breath,
For fear they should dislodge the o’erhanging snows—
So the pale Persians held their breath with fear.
And to Ferood his brother chiefs come up
To counsel: Gudurz and Zoarrah came,
And Feraburz, who rul’d the Persian host