HYMN II. Indra.

1. SAKRA I praise, to win his aid, far-famed, exceeding bountiful,

Who gives, as 'twere in thousands, precious wealth to him who sheds the juice and worships him.

2 Arrows with hundred points, unconquerable, are this Indra's n-dghty arms in war.

He streams on liberal worshippers like a hill with springs, when juices poured have gladdened him.

3 What time the flowing Soma-drops have gladdened with their taste the Friend,

Like water, gracious Lord! were my libations made, like milch-kine to the worshipper.

4 To him the peerless, who is calling you to give you aid, forth flow the drops of pleasant meath.

The Soloa-drops which call on thee, O gracious Lord, have brought thee to our hymn of praise.

5 He rushes hurrying like a steed to Soma that adorns our rite,

Which hymns make sweet to thee, lover of pleasant food. The call to Paura thou dost love.

6 Praise the strong, grasping Hero, winner of the spoil, ruling supreme oer mighty wealth.

Like a full spring, O Thunderer, from thy store hast thou poured on the worshipper evermore.

7 Now whether thou be far away, or in the heavens, or on the earth,

O Indra, mighty- thoughted, harnessing thy Bays, come Lofty with the Lofty Ones.

8 The Bays who draw thy chariot, Steeds who injure none, surpass the wind's impetuous strength -

With whom thou silencest the enemy of man, with whon; thou goest round the sky.

9 O gracious Hero, may we learn anew to know thee as thou art:

As in decisive fight thou holpest Etasa, or Vasa 'gainst Dasavraja,

10 As, Maghavan, to Kanva at the sacred feast, to Dirghanitha thine home-friend,

As to Gosarya thou, Stone-darter, gavest wealth, give me a gold-bright stall of kine.