Though he taketh not delight in the wood, yet is he set therein— Agni, placed as priest upon the hearth or hidden in the timber.

The shining song hath roused you both, ye ever-busy ones— the very praise wherein Indra oft hath found delight, as hath the Hotar, that manful soul, best among men, shield and stay of the earth.

At the breaking of this dawn and of the one that followeth, may we be found where thy stout striding is made known, O Indra, who art the best of men.
Triśoka, the flame thrice-born, brought hither a hundred men in Kutsa’s chariot—the same that shall not fail in war.

What draught shall be thine, O Indra, to make thy heart rejoice?
Being strong, come running to my hymns—enter thou by the doors.
When shall the car of god-breathed thought draw nigh to me?
With gifts of meat and grain, I would call thee to thy highest bounty.

When shall thy brightness, O peerless one, be shown among our men?
With what sung-seeing wilt thou array thyself?
When wilt thou come to us in truth, as a friend, O far-wandering one, to take our gift— though songs may rise from any table where food is laid?

As the sun sendeth each man to his work, so send thou forth the goers, each to his longing— as if unto givers of brides they went in joy— even those who seek to stir thy might with many a hymn,

O Indra, strong at birth, with food in hand.

The two great vessels—heaven and earth—stand firm by thy strength and thy song-born craft.

May the soma, pressed and rich in ghee, be sweet to thy tongue, and may the honeyed cup delight thy drink.

Lo, they have poured a brimming draught of honey for him— a full cup for Indra, for true is his giving.

He hath waxed in power upon the broad earth, the manful one, first in will and in manly might.

Mighty is Indra who breaketh through the war-bound ranks.
Many are they who muster for his side, to share his bond.
Rise thou upon them as on a chariot, driven forth with goodly grace and will to bless.