Behold him—Agni, in whose ward, whose keeping, and by whose strength the singer flourisheth— the far-shining flame, who ever circling, is ringed about with beams peerless and bright as the dawn's own light.

He shineth afar, radiant among the radiant, with the gods around him— Agni, the true-hearted and tireless, who hath sought out fellowship for his friends, swerving not, like a yoked steed pressing on in stride.

He guideth all who strive toward the gods, and ruleth o’er the dawn as she riseth, day by day through the length of a man’s life.
Upon him doth the faithful man lean his offering, as upon a chariot that cannot be overthrown— his sacrifice made firm with hallowing songs.

Grown mighty through praise and glad in the sound of chant, he soareth swift to the gods.

As the joyful and best of priests, Agni, with his tongue, anointeth the gods, mingling himself with them in the rite.

Draw him to us, with hymn and with holy sign, at the break of day— like Indra, let trembling Agni come.

The poets, filled with spirit, sing him with their thoughts— Jātavedas, the tongue of the strong gods.

In thee all blessings have been yoked together, as steeds are joined in team at the games, each in his way—

O Agni, bring nigh unto us those shapes of aid most dear to Indra.

For then, O Agni, when thou didst sit in thy greatness, even from birth did men call upon thee.
And so the gods bent to thy will, and the foremost of helpers waxed strong through thee.