THE rapture-shedding Soma-drops, effused in our assembly, have Flowed forth to glorify our prince.

Then Trita's Maidens onward urge the Tawny-coloured with the stones, indu for Indra, for his drink.

Now like a swan he maketh all the company sing each his hymn: He, like a steed, is bathed in milk.

O Soma, viewing Heaven and Earth, thou runncst like a darting deer Set in the place of offering.

The cows have sung with joy to him, even as a woman to her love He came as to a settled race.

Bestow illustrious fame on us, both on our liberal lords and me, Glory, intelligence, and wealth.