1 Receive Thy gift, Lord of Bays, and let it cheer Thee: the stone, like a well-guided courser,

Directed by the presser's arms hath pressed it.

2 So let the draught of joy, Thy dear companion, by which, O Lord of Bays, Thou slayest foemen,

Delight Thee, O Mighty One, Lord of princely treasures.

3 Mark closely, Bountiful One, the words I utter, this eulogy recited by Vasistha:

Accept the prayers I offer in Thy presence.

4 Hear Thou the call of the press-stone: hear Thou the scholar's hymn who sings and lauds Thee.

Take to Thine inmost self these adorations.

5 I know and ne'er forget the hymns and praises of Thee, the Conqueror, and Thy strength immortal.

Thy name I ever utter, Self-Refulgent.

6 Among mankind many are those who give thanks to Thee, and many a time the pious sage invokes Thee.

O Bountiful One, be not long distant from us.

7 All these thanks are for Thee, O Hero: to Thee I offer these my prayers, that strengthen.

Ever, in every place, must men invoke Thee.

8 Never do men attain, O Wonder-Worker, Thy greatness, Mighty One, who must be lauded,

Nor, O God, Thine heroic power and bounty.

9 Among all seers, O God, old and recent, who have engendered hymns as sacred singers,

Even with us be Thine auspicious friendships. Preserve us evermore with blessings.