7 Thee, Hero, guardian of the brave in battles, who roamest in the van, to draw thee hither,

The hosts agree, and joy, for his great actions, in the Chieftain.

8 Offerings in the sea to thee are pleasant, when thy Floods come to cheer these people.

To thee the Cow is sum of all things grateful when with the wish thou seekest men and princes.

9 So may we in this One be well befriended, well aided as it were through praise of chieftains,

That the Mighty One still may linger at our worship, as one led swift to work, to hear our praises.

10 Like men in rivalry extolling princes, our Friend be the Mighty One, wielder of the thunder.

Like true friends of some city's lord within them held in good rule with devotion they help him.

11 For every act of devotion makes him stronger, yea, when he goes around angry in spirit;

As pleasure at the ford invites the thirsty, as the long way brings him who gains his object.

12 Let us not here contend with the righteous, O Mighty One, for here, O Mighty One, is thine own portion,

The Great, whose Friends the bounteous Maruts honour, as with a stream, his song who gives his gifts.

13 Addressed to thee is this our praise, O Mighty One: Lord of Bay Steeds, find us hereby advancement.

So mayst thou lead us on, O Lord, to comfort. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXIV. God the Mighty.

1 Thou art the King of all that is, O Mighty One: protect the men, O Lord, preserve us.

Thou Lord of Heroes, Lord of Bounty, our saver, art faithful, very rich, the victory-giver.

2 Thou humbledst tribes that spake with insult by breaking down seven autumn forts, their refuge.

Thou stirredst, Blameless! billowy floods, and gavest his foe a prey to youthful Purukutsa.

3 With whom thou drivest troops whose lords are heroes, and bringest daylight now, much worshipped One,

With them guard lion-like wasting active fire to dwell in our tilled fields and in our homestead.

4 They through the greatness of thy spear, O Mighty One, shall, to thy praise, rest in this earthly station.

To loose the floods, to seek, for kine, the battle, his Bays he mounted, boldly seized the booty.

5 Bear Kutsa, him in whom thou joyest: the dark-red horses of the Wind are docile.

Let the Sun roll his chariot wheel anear us, and let the Thunderer go to meet the foemen.

6 Thou, Lord of Bays, made strong by impulse, hast slain the vexers of thy friends, who give not.

They who beheld the Friend beside the living were cast aside by thee as they rode onward.

7 The bard sang forth in inspiration: thou madest earth a covering for the Dasa.

The Lord of Bounty made the three that gleam with moisture, and to his home brought Kuyava to slay him.

8 These thine old deeds new bards have sung, O Mighty One. Thou conqueredst, boundest many tribes for ever.

Like castles thou hast crushed the godless races, and bowed the godless scorner's deadly weapon.

9 A Stormer thou hast made the stormy waters flow down, like the running rivers.

When o'er the flood thou broughtest them, O Hero, thou keptest Turvaga and Yadu safely.

10 Mayst thou be ours in all occasions, protector of the men, most gentle-hearted,

Giving us victory over all our rivals. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXV. God the Mighty.

1 Glad thee: thy glory hath been quaffed, Lord of Bay Steeds, as 'twere the bowl's enlivening mead.

For thee the Strong there is strong gift, mighty, omnipotent to win.

2 Let our best gift, most excellent, exhilarating, come to thee,

Victorious, bringing gain, immortal, conquering in fight.

3 Thou, Hero, winner of the spoil, urgest to speed the car of man.

Burn, like a vessel with the flame, the lawless Dasyu, Conqueror!

4 Empowered by thine own might, O Sage, thou stolest Surya's chariot wheel.

Thou barest Kutsa with the steeds of Wind to Susna as his death.

5 Most mighty is thy rapturous joy, most splendid is thine active power,

Wherewith, foe-slaying, sending bliss, thou art supreme in gaining steeds.

6 As thou to the ancient singers wast ever joy, as water to the thirsty,

So unto thee I sing this invocation. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXVI. God the Mighty.

1 Cheer thee with gifts to win us bliss: pierce, O Mighty, in thy strength.

Thou stormest trembling in thy rage, and findest not a foeman nigh.

2 Make our songs penetrate to him who is the Only One of men;

For whom the sacred food is spread, as the steer ploughs the barley in.

3 Within whose hands deposited all the Five Peoples' treasures rest.

Mark thou the man who injures us and kill him like the heavenly bolt.

4 Slay everyone who gives no gift, who, hard to reach, delights thee not.

Bestow on us what wealth he hath: this even the worshipper awaits.

5 Thou helpest him the doubly strong whose hymns were sung unceasingly.

When the Mighty fought, thou helpedst the mighty in the fray.

6 As thou to the ancient singers wast ever joy, like water to the thirsty,

So unto thee I sing this invocation. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXVII. God the Mighty.

1 The Bull of men, who cherishes all people, King of the Races, called of many,

Fame-loving, praised, hither to me with succour turn, having yoked both vigorous Bay Horses!

2 Thy mighty Stallions, yoked by prayer, thy Coursers to thy mighty chariot harnessed,

Ascend thou these, and borne by them come hither: with our gifts outpoured we call thee.

3 Ascend thy mighty car: the mighty gift is poured for thee and sweets are sprinkled round us.

Come down to us-ward, Bull of human races, come, having harnessed them, with strong Bay Horses.

4 Here is God-reaching devotion, here the offering; here are the prayers, here is the gift.

Strewn is the sacred grass: come hither, Mighty One; seat thee and rest: unyoke thy two Bay Coursers.

5 Come to us, Mighty One, come thou highly lauded to the devotions of the singer Mana.

Singing, may we find early through thy succour, may we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXVIII. God the Mighty.

1 If, Mighty One, thou hast given that gracious hearing wherewith thou helpest those who sang thy praises,

Blast not the wish that would exalt us: may I gain all from thee, and pay all man's devotions.

2 Let not the Sovereign Lord disappoint us in what shall bring both Sisters to our dwelling.

To him have run the quickly flowing waters. May he come to us with life and friendship.

3 Victorious with the men, Hero in battles, who hears the singer's supplication,

He will bring his car nigh to the man who offers, if he himself upholds the songs that praise him.

4 Yea, with the men, through love of glory he consumes the sacred food which friends have offered.

The ever-strengthening song of him who worships is sung in fight amid the clash of voices.

5 Aided by thee, O Lord of Bounty, may we subdue our foes who count them mighty.

Be our protector, strengthen and increase us. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXIX. Lopamudra and Agastya.

1 Through many autumns have I toiled and laboured, at night and morn, through age-inducing dawnings.

Old age impairs the beauty of our bodies. Let husbands still come near unto their spouses.

2 For even the men aforetime, law-fulfillers, who with the righteous declared eternal statutes,

They have decided, but have not accomplished: so now let wives come near unto their husbands.

5 To God, who is most near us, I address myself, to Him who knows what hath been hidden in the spirit,

To pardon any sins we have committed. Verily mortal man is full of longings.

6 Agastya thus, toiling with strong endeavour, wishing for children, progeny and power,

Cherished, a sage of mighty strength, both classes, and by God's favour obtained his prayer's fulfilment.

HYMN CLXXX. The Healers.

1 Lightly your coursers travel through the regions when round the sea of air your car is flying.

Your golden fellies scatter drops of moisture: drinking the sweetness ye attend the Mornings.

2 Ye as ye travel overtake the Courser who flies apart, the Friend of man, most holy.

The prayer is that the Sister may convey you, all praised, to support and strengthen.

3 Ye have deposited, matured within her, in the raw cow the first milk of the milch-cow,

Which the bright giver, shining like a serpent mid trees, presents to you whose form is perfect.

4 Ye made the fierce heat to be full of sweetness for Atri at his wish, like streaming water.

Thence is your gift, O Heroes: your car-wheels speed to us like springs of honey.

5 Like Tugra's ancient son may I, ye Mighty, bring you to give your gifts with milk-offerings.

Your greatness compasseth Earth, Heaven, and Waters: decayed for you is sorrow's net, ye Holy.

6 When, Bounteous Ones, ye drive your yoked team downward, ye send, by your own natures, understanding.

Swift as the wind let the prince please and feast you: he, like a pious man, gains strength for increase.

7 For verily we truthful singers praise you; the niggard trafficker is here excluded.

Now, even now do ye, O blameless Healers, ye Mighty, guard the man whose God is near him.

8 You of a truth day after day, that he might win the very plenteous torrent,

Agastya, famous among mortal heroes, roused with a thousand lauds like sounds of music.

9 When with the glory of your car ye travel, when we go speeding like the priest of mortals,

And give good horses to the faithful, may we, ye Truthful! gain our share of riches.

10 With songs of praise we call to-day, O Healers, that your new chariot, for our own well-being,

That circles heaven with never-injured fellies. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXXXI. The Healers.

1 What, dearest Pair, is this in strength and riches that ye as Priests are bringing from the waters?

This devotion is your glorification, ye who protect mankind and give them treasures.

2 May your pure steeds, rain-drinkers, bring you hither, swift as the tempest, your celestial coursers,

Rapid as thought, with fair backs, full of vigour, resplendent in their native light.

3 Your car is like a torrent rushing downward: may it come nigh, broad-seated, for our welfare,

Car holy, strong, that ever would be foremost, thought-swift, which ye, for whom we long, have mounted.