Hymn XLI. Varuna, Mitra, Aryaman.

1 NE'ER is he injured whom the Gods Varuna, Mitra, Aryaman,
The excellently wise, protect.
2 He prospers ever, free from scathe, whom they, as with full hands, enrich,
Whom they preserve from every foe.
3 The Kings drive far away from him his troubles and his enemies,
And lead him safely o'er distress.
4 Thornless, Adityas, is the path, easy for him who seeks the Law:
With him is naught to anger you.
5 What sacrifice, Adityas, ye Heroes guide by the path direct,--
May that come nigh unto your thought.
6 That mortal, ever unsubdued, gains wealth and every precious thing,
And children also of his own.
7 How, my friends, shall we prepare Aryaman's and Mitra's laud,
Glorious food of Varuna?
8 I point not out to you a man who strikes the pious, or reviles:
Only with hymns I call you nigh.
9 Let him not love to speak ill words: but fear the One who holds all four
Within his hand, until they fall.