WE as thy friends have chosen thee, mortals a God, to be our help, The Waters’ Child, the blessed, the resplendent One, victorious and beyond compare.
Since thou delighting in the woods hast gone unto thy mother streams, Not to be scorned, Agni, is that return of thine when from afar thou now art here.
O'er pungent smoke host thou prevailed, and thus art thou benevolent. Some go before, and others round about thee sit, they in whose friendship thou hast place.
Him who had passed beyond his foes, beyond continual pursuits, Him the unerring Ones, observant, found in floods, couched like a lion in his lair.
Him wandering at his own free will, Agni here hidden from our view, Him Mātariśvan brought to us from far away produced by friction, from the Gods.
O Bearer of Oblations, thus mortals received thee from the Gods, Whilst thou, the Friend of man, guardest each sacrifice with thine own power, Most Youthful One.
Amid thy wonders this is good, yea, to the simple is it clear, When gathered round about thee, Agni, lie the herds where thou art kindled in the morn.
Offer to him who knows fair rites, who burns with purifying glow, Swift envoy, active, ancient, and adorable: serve ye the God attentively.
Three times a hundred Gods and thrice a thousand, and three times ten and nine have worshipped Agni, For him spread sacred grass, with oil bedewed him, and stablished him as Priest and Sacrificer.
