MAY Indra come to us, he who knows rightly to give forth treasures from his store of riches.

Even as a thirsty steer who roams the desert. May he drink eagerly the milked-out Soma.

Lord of Bay Horses. Hero. May the Soma rise to thy cheeks and jaws like mountain-ridges. May we, O King, as he who driveth coursers, all joy in thee with hymns, invoked of many!

Invoked of many, Caster of the Stone my heart quakes like a rolling wheel for fear of penury. Shall not Puruvasu the singer give thee praise, O ever-prospering Indra, mounted on thy car?

Like the press-stone is this thy praiser, Indra. Loudly he lifts his voice with stron endeavour. With thy left hand, O Indra, give us riches: with thy right, Lord of Bays, be not reluctant.

May the strong Heaven make thee the Strong wax stronger: Strong, thou art borne by thy two strong Bay Horses. So, fair of cheek, with mighty chariot, mighty, uphold us, strong-willed, thunderarmed, in battle.

Devas, let all the people in obeisance bow down before this youthful Srutaratha, who, rich in steeds, gave me two dark red horses together with three hundred head of cattle.