darts were pointed well,
And dissevered from his chariot Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell,

Anger stirred the ancient Bhishma, and he rose in all his might,
Abhimanyu, pierced with arrows, fell and fainted in the fight!

Then to save the son of Arjun, Matsya's gallant princes came,
Brave Uttara, noble Sweta, youthful warriors known to fame,

Ah! too early fell the warriors in that sad and fatal strife,
Matsya's dames and dark-eyed maidens wept the princes' shortened life!

Slain by cruel fate, untimely, fell two brothers young and good,
Dauntless still the youngest brother, proud and gallant Sankha stood!

But the helmet-wearing Arjun came to stop the victor's path,
And to save the fearless Sankha from the ancient Bhishma's wrath,

Drupad too, Panchala's monarch, swiftly rushed into the fray,
Strove to shield the broken Pandavs and to stop the victor's way,

But as fire consumes the forest, wrathful Bhishma slew the foe,
None could face his sounding chariot and his ever-circled bow!

And the fainting Pandav warriors marked the foe, resistless, bold,
Shook like unprotected cattle tethered in the blighting cold!

Onward came the mighty Bhishma and the slaughter fiercer grew,
From his bow like hissing serpents still the glistening arrows flew!

Onward came the ancient warrior, and his path was strewn with dead,
And the broken Pandav forces, crushed and driven, scattered fled!

Friendly night and gathering darkness closed the slaughter of the day,
To their tents the sons of Pandu held their sad and weary way!

II

Kurus routed by Arjun

Grieved at heart the good Yudhishthir wept the losses of the day,
Sought the aid of gallant Krishna for the morning's fresh array,

And when from the eastern mountains SURYA drove his fiery car,
Bhishma and the helmed Arjun strove to turn the tide of war!

Bhishma's glorious palm-tree standard o'er the field of battle rose,
Arjun's monkey-standard glittered cleaving through the serried foes,

_Devas_ from their cloud-borne chariots, and _gandharvas_ from the sky,
Gazed in mute and speechless wonder on the human chiefs from high!

While with dauntless valour Arjun still the mighty Bhishma sought,
Warlike prince of fair Panchala with the doughty Drona fought,

Ceaseless 'gainst the proud preceptor sent his darts like summer rain,
Baffled by the skill of Drona, Dhrista-dyumna strove in vain!

But the fiercer darts of Drona pierced the prince's shattered mail,
Hurtling on