1. PRESSED is
the juice divine with milk commingled: thereto hath Indra ever been accustomed.
We wake thee, Lord of Bays,
with sacrifices: mark this our laud in the wild joy of Soma.
2 On to the
rite they move, the grass they scatter, these Soma-drinkers eloquent in synod.
Hither, for men to grasp, are
brought the press-stones, far-thundering, famous, strong, that wait on heroes.
3 Indra, thou
settest free the many waters that were encompassed, Hero, by the Dragon.
Down rolled, as if on chariots
borne, the rivers: through fear of thee all things created tremble.
4 Skilled in
all manly deeds the God terrific hath with his weapons mastered these
opponents.
Indra in rapturous joy shook
down their castles he slew them in his might, the Thunder-wielder.
5 No evil spirits
have impelled us, Indra, nor fiends, O Mightiest God, with their devices.
Let our true God subdue the
hostile rabble: let not the lewd approach our holy worship.
6 Thou in thy
strength surpassest Earth and Heaven: the regions comprehend not all thy
greatness.
With thine own power and might
thou slewest Vrtra: no foe hath found the end of thee in battle.
7 Even the
earlier Deities submitted their powers to thy supreme divine dominion.
Indra wins wealth and deals it
out to other's: men in the strife for booty call on Indra.
8 The humble
hath invoked thee for protection, thee, Lord of great felicity, O Indra.
Thou with a hundred aids hast
been our Helper: one who brings gifts like thee hath his defender.
9 May we, O
Indra, be thy friends for ever, eagerly, Conqueror, yielding greater homage.
May, through thy grace, the
strength of us who battle quell in the shock the onset of the foeman.
10 Place us by
food which thou hast given, O Indra, us and the wealthy patrons who command us.
Let thy great power bring good
to him who lauds thee. Ye Gods, preserve us evermore with blessings.
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