# The Bengali Book of English Verse/The Chief of Pokurna (Omesh Chunder Dutt)

OMESH CHUNDER DUTT. 1836-1912.
The Chief of Pokurna.
Within the merry greenwood, At dawning of the day, Four-and-twenty armed men In silent ambush lay. They wait like couchant leopards, Their eager eyes they strain, And look towards the lonely glade, Towards the distant plain. Naught see they but the golden corn Slow waving in the sun, Naught see they but the misty hills And uplands bare and dun. The rustle of the forest leaves, The trampling of the deer, The chirp of birds upon the boughs, Are all the sounds they hear.
But hark! they catch the thrilling notes Of a distant bugle horn Come pealing through the wild ravine, By the morning breezes borne: Lower they stooped, and anxiously Their laboured breath they drew, And clutched their brands with nervous hands— Their quarry is in view, Attended by a single squire, Slow riding up the glen,
Unconscious that his path's beset By armed and desperate men; A brave gerfalcon on his wrist, The bugle on his breast, The sunlight gleaming brightly on His nodding plume and crest.
Not clad in steel, from head to heel In satin rich arrayed, With his trusty sword, Pokurna's lord Is riding through the glade, To see his falcon proudly soar And strike, he comes so far; In peaceful guise he rideth on, Nor dreams of blood or war. All sudden from their ambush The treacherous foemen rose, With vengeful eyes and glittering arms, With spears and bended bows: And ere the chief could draw his blade, They hemmed him darkly round, And plucked him from his frightened steed, And bore him to the ground.
The king sat on a gorgeous throne, All rough with ruddy gold, Begirt with many a haughty peer, And warriors stern and bold; With many a vassal-prince around, For they had come from far To pay their homage to their lord, The sovereign of Marwar. With fetters on his manly hands, Within that hostile ring, With dauntless look the chief appeared Before his angry king.
For he had often vaunted thus, In public and alone, 'Within my dagger's sheath I hold This kingdom's royal throne.'
Before his angry king he stood, The king he had defied, Nor quailed he 'neath that princely glance Nor vailed his brow of pride; Though bent on him were fiery eyes, And looks of rage and hate, He stood as calm as if he were Within his castle gate. The monarch spoke, his words rang out In accents stern and clear, 'Ha! traitor, insolent and keen, At last we have thee here; Where now are all thy boastings vain, Amidst thy men of war? Say, where is now the sheath which holds The fortunes of Marwar?'
Oh! grimly turned Pokurna's lord, And loud and long laughed he, Then waved his hand towards the prince And answered loftily: 'I left it with my gallant son, Within Pokurna's hall; Tremble, false prince, for sure he will Avenge his father's fall!' The monarch's swarthy cheeks grew pale, The lightning filled his eye: 'And dar'st thou, rebel, even here, Thy sovereign lord defy? Ho, soldiers! drag the traitor out, And ere the close of day
Let his foul carcase feed the dogs Upon the public way.'
Oh! gaily in a golden shower The setting sunlight falls Upon the waste of glinting sand Which girds Pokurna's walls. The warder paced the battlements, With heavy steps and slow, And from within arose a cry, A wail of grief and woe. There noble dames shed heart-wrung tears, And rent their glossy hair, And cried aloud for him, the dead, And beat their bosoms bare. And cursed with bitter, bitter words The prince at whose command Was foully slain their noble chief, The bravest in the land.
Far different was the scene within That castle's ancient hall, Where, 'neath the glorious banners Which graced the blackened wall, Five hundred mailed warriors And chiefs of high emprise Around their youthful leader stood, With stern yet moistened eyes. They bared at once their shining blades And lifted them on high, And swore a deep and deadly oath To avenge their lord or die. Full well their solemn oath they kept In many a mortal fray, And sorely rued that haughty prince The deed he did that day.