THE Child, when blended with the streams, speeding the plan of sacrifice, Surpasses all things that are dear, yea, from of old.
The place, near the two pressing-stones of Trita, hath he occupied, Secret and dear through seven lights of sacrifice.
Urge to three courses, on the heights of Trita, riches in a stream. He who is passing wise measures his courses out.
Even at his birth the Mothers Seven taught him, for glory, like a sage, So that he, firm and sure, hath set his mind on wealth.
Under his sway, of one accord, are all the guileless Deities: Warriors to be envied, they, when they are pleased.
The Babe whom they who strengthen Law have generated fair to see, Much longed for at the sacrifice, most liberal Sage,—
To him, united, of themselves, come the young Parents of the rite, When they adorn him, duly weaving sacrifice.
With wisdom and with radiant eyes unbar to us the stall of heaven, Speeding at solemn rite the plan of Holy Law.
