HYMN LXXXIV

O Indra marvellously bright, come, these libations long for thee,
Thus by fine fingers purified.
Urged by the holy singer, sped by song, come, Indra, to the
prayers.
Of the libation-pouring priest.
Approach, O Indra, hasting thee, Lord of Bay Horses, to the
prayers:
Take pleasure in the juice we pour.