i. 4. 22.

a Never art thou barren, O Indra,
Never dost thou fail thy worshipper;
Now more and more is thy divine gift increased,
O bountiful one.
b Thou art taken with a support; to the Adityas thee!
c At no time art thou heedless,
But dost guard the two generations;
The pressing is thy strength, O fourth Aditya
The ambrosia is ready in the sky.
d The sacrificer seeketh the favour of the gods;
Be ye kindly, O Adityas;
May thy lovingkindness come hither,
That it may the more free us from affliction.
e O bright Aditya, this is thy Soma drink,
Delight in it, have gladness in it; may we that gladden thee have gladness;
With the rain of the sky I mix thee.