HYMN XXIV

Come to the juice that we have pressed, to Soma, Indra! blent
with milk:
Come, favouring us, thy bay-drawn car!
Come, Indra, to this gladdening drink, placed on the grass,
pressed out with stones:
Wilt thou not drink thy fill thereof?
To Indra have my songs of praise gone forth, thus rapidly sent
hence,
To turn him to the Soma-draught.
Hither with songs of praise we call Indra to drink the Soma.
juice:
Will he not come to us by lauds?
Indra, these Somas are expressed, Take them within thy belly,
Lord Of Hundred Powers, thou Prince of wealth.
We know thee winner of the spoil and resolute in battles, Sage!
Therefore thy blessing we implore.
Borne hither by thy stallions, drink, Indra, this juice which we
have pressed,
Mingled with barley and with milk.
Indra, for thee in thine own place I urge the Soma for thy
draught:
Deep in thy heart let it remain.
We call on thee, the Ancient One, Indra, to drink the Soma
juice,
We Kusikas who seek thine aid.