HYMN XLI. Varuna, Mitra, Aryaman.

1 NE'ER is he injured whom the Gods Varuna, Mitra, Aryaman,

The excellently wise, protect.

2 He prospers ever, free from scathe, whom they, as with full hands, enrich,

Whom they preserve from every foe.

3 The Kings drive far away from him his troubles and his enemies,

And lead him safely o'er distress.

4 Thornless, Adityas, is the path, easy for him who seeks the Law:

With him is naught to anger you.

5 What sacrifice, Adityas, ye Heroes guide by the path direct, -

May that come nigh unto your thought.

6 That mortal, ever unsubdued, gains wealth and every precious thing,

And children also of his own.

7 How, my friends, shall we prepare Aryaman's and Mitra's laud,

Glorious food of Varuna?

8 I point not out to you a man who strikes the pious, or reviles:

Only with hymns I call you nigh.

9 Let him not love to speak ill words: but fear the One who holds all four

Within his hand, until they fall.