Through this fair rite is Soma made mighty, yea, mightier than the mighty.
With joy enkindled, he doth rise and play the bull.

His works—both wrought and yet to come—stand plain to see, for he bringeth low the Dasyu, and the daring one claimeth the owed reward.

Then Soma, the draught prepared for Indra’s hand, becometh a mace of triumph, winning thousands, when a song is raised unto him.

A seer himself, a singer wise, he seeketh wealth for the soul-stirred bard from him whose hand dispenseth gifts, while ever he tendeth his far-seeing thoughts.

Yearning for gain—aye, as for steeds in the games— thou art among the victors in the foray.