I YOKE with prayer your ancient inspiration. May the laud rise as on the prince's pathway.

All Sons of Immortality shall hear it, all the possessors of celestial natures.

When speeding ye came nigh us like twin sisters, religious-hearted votaries brought you forward. Take your place, ye who know your proper station: be near, be very near unto our Soma.

Five paces have I risen from Earth. I follow her who hath four feet with devout observance. This by the Sacred Syllable have I measured: I purify in the central place of Order,

He, for Deva's sake, chose death to be his portion. He chose not, for men's good, a life eternal They offered Soma the Ṛṣi. Yama delivered up his own dear body.

The Seven flow to the Youth on whom the Devas wait: the Sons unto the Father brought the offering. Both these are his, as his they are the Lords of both: both toil; belonging unto both they prosper well.