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HYMN C. Soma Pavamana.

I. THE Guileless Ones are singing praise to Indra's well beloved Friend,
As, in the morning of its life, the mothers lick the new-born calf.
2 O Indu, while they cleanse thee bring, O Soma, doubly-waxing wealth
Thou in the worshipper's abode causest all treasures to increase.
3 Set free the. song which mind hath yoked, even as thunder frees the rain:
All treasures of the earth and heaven, O Soma, thou dost multiply.
4 Thy stream when thou art pressed runs on like some victorious warrior's steed
Hastening onward through the fleece like a fierce horse who wins the prize.
5 Flow on, Sage Soma, with thy stream to give us mental power and strength,
Effused for Indra, for his drink, for Mitra and for Varuna.
6 Flow to the filter with thy stream, effused, best winner, thou, of spoil,
O Soma, as most rich in sweets for Indra, Visnu, and the Gods.
7 The mothers, void of guiles, caress thee Golden-coloured, in the sieve,
As cows, O Pavamana, lick the new-born calf, as Law commands.
8 Thou, Pavamana, movest on with wondrous rays to great renown.
Striving within the votary's house thou drivest all the glooms away.
9 Lord of great sway, thou liftest thee above the heavens, above the earth.
Thou, Pavamana hast assumed thy coat of mail in majesty.

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