HYMN XXIII

Invoked to drink the Soma juice come with thy bay steeds,
Thunder-armed!
Come, Indra, hitherward, to me.
Our priest is seated true to time; the grass is regularly strewn;
The pressing-stones were set at morn.
These prayers, O thou who bearest prayer, are offered. Seat
thee on the grass.
Hero, enjoy the offered cake.
O Vritra-slayer, be thou pleased with these libations, with these
hymns,
Song-loving Indra, with our lauds.
Our hymns caress the Lord of Strength, vast, drinker of the
Soma's juice,
Indra, as mother-cows their calf.
Delight thee with the juice we pour for thine own great
munificence:
Yield not thy singer to reproach.
We, Indra, dearly loving thee, bearing oblation, sing thee
hymns:
Thou, Vasu, nearly lovest us.
O thou to whom thy Bays are dear, loose not thy horses far
from us:
Here glad thee, Indra, Lord Divine.
May long-maned courses, dropping oil, bring thee on swift car
hitherward.
Indra, to seat thee on the grass.