1 O BRAHMAṆASPATI, stand up: God-serving men we pray to thee. May they who give good gifts, the Maruts, come to us. Indra, most swift, be thou with them. 2 O Son of Strength, each mortal calls to thee for aid when spoil of battle waits for him. O Maruts, may this man who loves you well obtain wealth of good steeds and hero might. 3 May Brahmaṇaspati draw nigh, may Sūnṛtā the Goddess come, And Gods bring to this rite which gives the five-fold gift the Hero, lover of mankind. 4 He who bestows a noble guerdon on the priest wins fame that never shall decay. For him we offer sacred hero-giving food, peerless and conquering easily. 5 Now Brahmaṇaspati speaks forth aloud the solemn hymn of praise, Wherein Indra and Varuṇa, Mitra, Aryaman, the Gods, have made their dwelling place. 6 May we in holy synods, Gods! recite that hymn, peerless, that brings felicity. If you, O Heroes, graciously accept this word, may it obtain all bliss from you. 7 Who shall approach the pious? who the man whose sacred grass is trimmed? The offerer with his folk advances more and more: he fills his house with precious things. 8 He amplifies his lordly might, with kings he slays: e’en mid alarms he dwells secure In great or lesser fight none checks him, none subdues,—the wielder of the thunderbolt.