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Hymn XIII. Soma Pavamana.

1. PASSED through, the fleece in thousand streams the Soma, purified, flows on
To Indra's, Viyu's special place.
2 Sing forth, ye men who long for help, to Pavamana, to the Sage,
Effused to entertain the Gods.
3 The Soma-drops with thousand powers are purified for victory,
Hymned to become the feast of Gods.
4 Yea, as thou flowest bring great store of food that we may win the spoil
Indu, bring splendid manly might.
5 May they in flowing give us wealth in thousands, and heroic power,-
These Godlike Soma-drops effused.
6 Like coursers by their drivers urged, they were poured forth, for victory,
Swift through the woollen straining-cloth.
7 Noisily flow the Soma-drops, like milch-kine lowing to their calves:
They have run forth from both the hands.
8 As Gladdener whom Indra loves, O Pavamana, with a roar
Drive all our enemies away.
9 O Pavamamas, driving off the godless, looking on the light,
Sit in the place of sacrifice.

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