Page:The Bengali Book of English Verse.djvu/75

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.