HYMN CLXXV. Indra.

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 drink, mighty, omnipotent to win.

2 Let our strong drink, most excellent, exhilarating, come to thee,

Victorious, Indra1 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 Sarya'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, O Indra, 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.