HYMN CXXIV

An Omen from the sky

From the high firmament, yea, out of heaven a water-drop with
dew on me hath fallen.
I, Agni! share the merit of the pious, with vigour, milk, and
hymns and sacrifices.
If from a tree that fruit hath fallen downward if, aught from air
that is vayu.
Where it hath touched my body or my garment, thence may the
Waters drive Destruction backward.
It is a fragrant ointment, happy fortune, sheen all of gold, yea,
purified from blemish.
Spread over us are all purifications. Death and Malignity shall
not subdue us.