Cluster analysis

Sohrab alone, he slept not: all night long He had lain wakeful tossing on his bed; But when the gray dawn stole into his tent, He rose and clad himself and girt his sword, And took his horseman's cloak and left his tent, And went abroad into the cold wet fog, Through the dim camp to Peronwisa's tent.

Through the black Tartar tents he passed, which stood Clustering like beehives on the low flat strand Of Oxus where the summer floods overflow When the sun melts the snows in high Pamir.

Through the black tents he passed over that low strand, And to a hillock came a little back From the stream's brink, the spot where first a boat Crossing the stream in summer scrapes the land.

The men of former times had crown'd the top With a clay ford, but that was fallen; and now The Tartars built there Peronwisa's tent, A dome of laths, and over it felts were spread; And Sohrab came there and went in and stood Upon the thick-piled carpets in the tent, And found the old man sleeping on his bed Of rugs and felts, and near him lay his arms.