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
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OMESH CHUNDER DUTT.
