Hymn XXIX. Indra.

1 O SOMA DRINKER, ever true, utterly hopeless though we be,
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine,
In thousands, O most wealthy One.
2 O Lord of Strength, whose jaws are strong, great deeds are thine, the powerful:
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine,
In thousands, O most wealthy One.
3 Lull thou asleep, to wake no more, the pair who on each other look
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine,
In thousands, O most wealthy One.
4 Hero, let hostile spirits sleep, and every gentler genius wake:
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine,
In thousands, O most wealthy One.
5 Destroy this ass, O Indra, who in tones discordant brays to thee:
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine,
In thousands, O most wealthy One.
6 Far distant on the forest fall the tempest in a circling course!
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine,
In thousands, O most wealthy One.
7 Slay each reviler, and destroy him who in secret injures us:
Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine
In thousands, O most wealthy One.