| Krishna.
Thou sees Me as Time who kills, Time who brings all to doom, The
Slayer Time, Ancient of Days, come hither to consume; Excepting
thee, of all these hosts of hostile chiefs arrayed, There stands not
one shall leave alive the battlefield! Dismayed No longer be! Arise!
obtain renown! destroy thy foes! Fight for the kingdom waiting thee
when thou hast vanquished those.
By Me they fall- not thee! the stroke of
death is dealt them now, Even as they show thus gallantly; My
instrument art thou! Strike, strong-armed Prince, at Drona! at
Bhishma strike! deal death On Karna, Jyadratha; stay all
their warlike breath!
'Tis I who bid them perish! Thou wilt but
slay the slain; Fight! they must fall, and thou must live, victor
upon this plain!
Sanjaya. Hearing mighty
Keshav's word, Trembling that helmed Lord Clasped his lifted palms,
and- praying Grace of Krishna- stood there, saying, With bowed brow
and accents broken, These words, timorously spoken:
Arjuna. Worthily, Lord of Might!
The whole world hath delight In Thy surpassing power, obeying Thee;
The Rakshasas, in dread At sight of Thee, are sped To all four
quarters; and the company Of Siddhas sound Thy name.
How should they not proclaim Thy
Majesties, Divinest, Mightiest? Thou Brahm, than Brahma greater!
Thou Infinite Creator! Thou God of gods, Life's Dwelling-place and
Rest.
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