HYMN LVII. Soma Pavamana.

1. THY streams that never fail or waste flow forth like showers of rain from heaven,

To bring a thousand stores of strength.

2 He flows beholding on his way all wellbeloved sacred lore,

Green-tinted, brandishing his, arms.

3 He, when the people deck him like a docile king of elephants.

Sits as a falcon in the, wood.

4 So bring thou hitherward to us, Indu, while thou art purified,

All treasures both of heaven and earth.