As cows low to their calves in stalls, so with our songs we glorify Him, even your wondrous God, who checks attack, who is gracious to the grateful.

2 O celestial, bounteous Giver, girt about with might, rich, mountain-like, in precious things, swift we seek Thee for foodful booty rich in kine, brought hundredfold and thousandfold.

3 I crave of Thee that hero strength, that Thou mayst first regard this prayer, wherewith Thou holpest Bhrigu and the Yatis and Praskanva when the prize was staked,

4 wherewith Thou sentest mighty waters to the sea, that, O God, is Thy hero strength. For ever unattainable is this power of Him to whom the worlds have called aloud.