1 Sing out, the pious, at your worship to move with adorations earth and heaven. The holy singers, whose unmatched devotions, like a tree's branches, part in all directions.

2 Let worship proceed like some fleet courser: with one accord lift ye on high the ladles.

Strew sacred grass meet for the solemn service: bright flames that love the righteous have mounted upward.

3 Like babes in arms reposing on their mother, let the righteous sit upon the grass's summit.

Let general fire make bright the flame of worship: scorn us not, O God, in the assembly of the righteous.

4 Gladly the righteous have let themselves be honoured, milking the copious streams of holy Order.

The highest might to-day is yours, the Vasisthas': come ye, as many as ye are, one-minded.

5 So, O God, send us wealth among the people: may we be closely knit to Thee, O Victor,

Unharmed, and rich, and taking joy together. Preserve us evermore with blessings.