The old legend
By Michael Madhusudhan Dutt
But dauntless there stood,
King Porus, towering ‘midst the foe,
Like a Himalaya peak
With its eternal crown of snow:
And on his brow did shine
The jewell’d regal diadem
His milk white elephant
Was deck’d with many a brilliant gem. –
He wreck’d not of the phalanx
That ’round him closed – but nobly fought, –
And like the angry winds that blow,
Amidst them dreadful havoc wrought
And thin’d his crown and country’s foe!
The hardiest warrior at is deeds,
Awestruck, quail’d like the wind shaken reeds:
They dared not look upon his face,
They shrank before his burning gaze,
For in his eye the hero shone
That feared not death – but high – alone –
A being as if of lightning made,
That scorch’d all that gaze’d upon
Trampling the living with the dead
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