Indra, be gracious, drive thou forth, come, Hero, with thy two
bay steeds.
Taste the libation, hither, enjoying meath and the hymn, come,
fair, to the banquet.
O Indra, even as one athirst, fill thee with meath as 'twere from
heaven.
Sweet-toned, the raptures of this juice have come to thee as to
the light.
Swift-conquering Indra, Mitra like, smote, as a Yati, Vritra
dead.
Like Bhrigu he cleft Vala through, and quelled his foes in Soma's
rapturous joy.
O Indra, let the juices enter thee. Fill full thy belly, sate thee,
mighty one! Let the hymn bring thee.
Hear thou my call, accept the song I sing, here, Indra, with thy
friends enjoy thyself, to height of rapture.
Now will I tell the manly deeds of Indra, the first that he
achieved, the thunder-wielder.
He slew the Dragon, then disclosed the waters, and cleft the
channels of the mountain torrents.
He slew the Dragon lying on the mountain: his heavenly bolt of
thunder Tvashtar fashioned.
Like lowing kine in rapid flow descending the waters glided
downward to the ocean.
Impetuous as a bull he chose the Soma, and quaffed the juices
in three sacred beakers. p. a38
Maghavan grasped the thunder for his weapon, and smote to
death this first-born of the dragons.
