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Hymn XII. Soma Pavamana.

1. To Indra have the Soma drops, exceeding rich in sweets, been poured,
Shed in the seat of sacrifice.
2 As mother kine low to their calves, to Indra have the sages called,
Called him to drink the Soma juice.
3 In the stream's wave wise Soma dwells, distilling rapture, in his seat,
Resting upon a wiId-cow's hide.
4 Far-sighted Soma, Sage and Seer, is worshipped in the central point
Of heaven, the straining-cloth of wool.
5 In close embraces Indu holds Soma when
poured within the jars.
And on the. purifying sieve.
6 Indu sends forth a voice on high to regions of the sea of air,
Shaking the vase that drops with meath.
7 The Tree whose praises never fail yields heavenly milk among our hymns,
Urging men's generations on.
8 The Wise One, with the Sage's stream, the Soma urged to speed, flows on
To the dear places of the sky.
9 O Pavamana, bring us wealth bright with a thousand splendours. Yea.
O Indu, give us ready help.

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