Page:The Bengali Book of English Verse.djvu/73

Rh 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.