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Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895], at


1To him most liberal, lofty Lord of lofty wealth, verily powerful
   and strong, I bring my hymn,
  Whose checkless bounty, as of waters down a slope, is spread
   abroad for all that live, to give them strength.
2Now all this world, for worship, shall come after thee—the
   offerer's libations like descending floods,
  When the well-loved one seems to rest upon the hill, the thun-
   derbolt of Indra, shatterer wrought of gold.
3To him the terrible, most worthy of high praise, like radiant
  Dawn, bring gifts with reverence in this rite,
  Whose being, for renown, yea, Indra-power and light, have been
   created, like bay steeds, to move with speed.
4Thine, Indra, praised by many excellently rich! are we who
   trusting in thy help draw near to thee.
  Lover of praise, none else but thou receives our laud: as Earth
   loves all her creatures, love thou this our hymn.
5Great is thy power, O Indra, we are thine. Fulfil, O Maghavan,
   the wish of this thy worshipper.
  After thee lofty heaven hath measured out its strength to thee
   and to thy power this earth hath bowed itself.
6Thou, who hast thunder for thy weapon, with thy bolt hast
   shattered into pieces this broad massive cloud.
  Thou hast sent down obstructed floods that they may flow: thou
   hast, thine own for ever, all victorious might.

Next: Hymn 16