1 O Lord of Light, what joys Thou broughtest from the Asuras, Prosper therewith, O Bountiful, him who lauds that deed, and those whose grass is trimmed for Thee.

2 The unwasting share of steeds and kine which, O Lord, Thou hast fast secured,

Grant to the worshipper who presses Soma and gives guerdon, not unto the churl.

3 The riteless, godless man who sleeps his unbroken sleep,-

May he by following his own devices perish. Hide from him wealth that nourishes.

4 Whether, O Mighty One, Thou be far, or, Vrtra-slayer, near at hand,

Thence by heaven-reaching songs he who hath pressed the juice invites Thee with Thy long-maned Steeds.

5 In heaven's bright sphere, or in the basin of the sea, in some place on earth, or in the firmament-

Thou, chief Vrtra-slayer, art with those who call; approach.

6 Thou Bestower of Soma, Lord of Strength, beside our flowing Soma juice

Delight us with Thy bounty rich in pleasantness, O Lord, with abundant wealth.

7 O Lord, turn us not away: be the companion of our feast.

For Thou art our protection, yea, Thou art our Friend: O Lord, turn us not away.

8 Be with us, O Lord, beside the juice, the meath.

Show forth great favour to the Singer, O Bountiful; Lord, with us, beside the juice.

9 O Caster of the Stone, neither angels nor mortals have attained to Thee.

Thou in Thy might surpassest all that hath been made: the angels have not attained to Thee.

11 Bards joined in song to the Lord so that He might aid with power,

The Lord of Light, that He whose laws stand fast might aid with power and with the help He gives.

13 Loudly I call that Mighty One, the Bountiful, who evermore possesses power, ever resistless.

Holy, most liberal, may He lead us on to riches, and, Thunder-armed, make all our pathways pleasant for us.

14 Thou knowest well, O Mighty One, Thou Most Potent, with Thy strength to destroy these castles.

Before Thee, Thunder-armed! all beings tremble: the heavens and earth before Thee shake with terror.

15 May Thy truth, O Wondrous Hero, be my guard: bear me o'er much woe, Thunderer! as over floods.

When, O Lord, wilt Thou honour us with opulence, all-nourishing and much to be desired, O King?