THESE who wear hair-knots on the right, the movers of holy thought, white-robed, have won me over.
I warned the men, when from the grass I raised me, Not from afar can my Vasisthas help you.
With Soma they brought Indra from a distance, Over Vaisanta, from the strong libation. Indra preferred Vasisthas to the Soma pressed by the son of Vayata, Pasadyumna.
So, verily, with these he crossed the river, in company with these he slaughtered Bheda. So in the fight with the Ten Kings, Vasisthas! did Indra help Sudās through your devotions.
I gladly, men I with prayer prayed by our fathers have fixed your axle: ye shall not be injured: Since, when ye sang aloud the Sakvari verses, Vasisthas! ye invigorated Indra.
Like thirsty men they looked to Heaven, in battle with the Ten Kings, surrounded and imploring. Then Indra heard Vasiṣṭha as he praised him, and gave the Trtsus ample room and freedom.
Like sticks and staves wherewith they drive the cattle, Stripped bare, the Bharatas were found defenceless: Vasiṣṭha then became their chief and leader: then widely. were the Trtsus' clans extended.
Three fertilize the worlds with genial moisture: three noble Creatures cast a light before them. Three that give warmth to all attend the morning. All these have they discovered, these Vasisthas.
Like the Sun's growing glory is their splendour, and like the sea's is their unflathomed greatness. Their course is like the wind's. Your laud, Vasisthas, can never be attained by any other.
They with perceptions of the heart in secret resort to that which spreads a thousand branches. The Apsaras brought hither the Vasisthas wearing the vesture spun for them by Yama.
A form of lustre springing from the lightning wast thou, when Indra and Mitra saw thee. Tliy one and only birth was then, Vasiṣṭha, when from thy stock Agastya brought thee hither.
Born of their love for Urvasi, Vasiṣṭha thou, priest, art son of Indra and Mitra; And as a fallen drop, in heavenly fervour, all the Devas laid thee on a lotus-blossorn.
He thinker, knower both of Earth and Heaven, endowed with many a gift, Destined to wear the vesture spun by Yama, sprang from the Apsaras to life, Vasiṣṭha.
Born at the offering, urged by adorations, both with a common flow bedewed the pitcher. Then from the midst thereof there rose up Māna, and thence they say was born the sage Vasiṣṭha.
He brings the bearer of the laud and Sāman: first shall he speak bringing the stone for pressing. With grateful hearts in reverence approach him: to you, O Pratrdas, Vasiṣṭha cometh.