I HAVE beheld the might of this Great Being. Immortal in the midst of tribes of mortals.

His jaws now open and now shut together: much they devour, insatiately chewing.

His eyes are turned away, his head is hidden: unsated with his tongue he eats the fuel. With hands upraised, with reverence in the houses, for him they quickly bring his food together.

Seeking, as ’twere, his Mother's secret bosom, he, like a child, creeps on through wide-spread bushes. One he finds glowing like hot food made ready, and kissing deep within the Earth's recmes.

This holy Law I tell you, Earth and Heaven: the Infant at his birth dovours his Parents. No knowledge of the Deva have I, a mortal. Yea, Agni knoweth best, for he hath wisdom.

This man who quickly gives him food, who offers his gifts of oil and butter and supports him, - Him with his thousand eyes he closely looks on: thou showest him thy face from all sides, Agni.

Agni, hast thou committed sin or treason among the Devas? In ignorance I ask thee. Playing, not playing, he gold-hued and toothless, hath cut his food up as the knife a victim.

He born in wood hath yoked his horses rushing in all directions, held with reins that glitter. The well-born friend hath carved his food with Devas: in all his limbs he hath increased and prospered.