HYMN VII. Praskaṇva's Gift.

GREAT, verily, is Indra's might. I have beheld, and hither comes Thy bounty, Dasyave-vrka!

A hundred oxen white of hue are shining like the stars in Heaven, So tall, they seem to prop the sky.

Bamboos a hundred, a hundred dogs, a hundred skins of beasts well-tanned, a hundred tufts of Balbaja, four hundred red-hued mares are mine.

Blest by the Devas, Kinvayanas! be ye who spread through life on life: Like horses have ye stridden forth.

Then men extolled the team of seven not yet full-grown, its fame is great.

The dark mares rushed along the paths, so that no eye could follow them.