Cars went down and mailéd horsemen, soldiers fell in dread array,
Elephants with white tusks broken and with mangled bodies lay!
Arjun and the stalwart Bhima, piercing through their countless foes,
Side by side impelled their chariots, where the palm-tree standard rose!
Where the peerless ancient Bhishma on that dark and fatal day,
Warring with the banded nations, still resistless held his way!
On he came, his palm-tree standard still the front of battle knew,
And like sun from dark clouds parting Bhishma burst on Arjun's view!
And his eyes brave Arjun shaded at the awe-inspiring sight,
Half he wished to turn for shelter from that chief of godlike might!
But bold Krishna drove his chariot, whispered unto him his plan,
Arjun placed the young Sikhandin in the deathful battle's van!
Bhishma viewed the Pandav forces with a calm unmoving face,
Saw not Arjun's fair gandiva, saw not Bhima's mighty mace,
Smiled to see the young Sikhandin rushing to the battle's fore,
Like the foam upon the billow when the mighty storm-winds roar!
Bhishma thought of word he plighted and of oath that he had sworn,
Dropped his arms before the warrior who was but a female born!
And the standard which no warrior ever saw in base retreat,
Idly stood upon the chariot, threw its shade on Bhishma's seat!