XVII Indra

1. In all the worlds That was the best and highest whence sprang the mighty one, of splendid valour,

As soon as he is born he smites his foemen, he in whom all

who lend him aid are joyful foe

2. Grown mighty in his strength, of ample vigour, he as a strikes fear into the Dasa,

Eager to win the breathing and the breathless. All sang thy praise at banquet and oblation.

3. All concentrate on thee their mental vigour, what time these, once or twice, are thine assistants.

Blend what is sweeter than the sweet with sweetness: win quickly with our meath that meath in battle.