All actions that arise among beings, whether great or small, are but the workings of the Supreme Lord—he who lies upon Ananta, the endless serpent, resting in deep yogic slumber. At a time of distress, the goddess Earth, with palms humbly joined, approached Madhava and pleaded, “I am burdened beyond endurance and have sought refuge with Brahma.” But when she found herself turned away by the Blessed Lord, she spoke again with earnestness, “If you are truly able to rescue me, who am submerged in the fathomless ocean of suffering, then with devotion I seek shelter in you. Show me your grace, O Mādhava. For you are Indra, you are Varuṇa, you are Agni, and you are Vāyu as well. You are the Fish, the Tortoise, the Boar, the Man-Lion, and the Dwarf—manifest in all your wondrous forms. Through yoga, the wise perceive you; by tradition, you are heard of, O renowned one.” She continued, “You are earth, air, space, water, and fire as the fifth. With all their planets and stars, with the divisions of time—kalās, kāṣṭhās, and muhūrtas—months, fortnights, days and nights, seasons and years, all are restrained and governed by you. The six months and the six seasons, all the measures of time, move according to your will. You are the great mountains—Meru, Mandara, Vindhya, Malaya, and Dardura. Of bows, you are Pināka. You are the supreme Sāṃkhya and Yoga. You are both contraction and expansion, the protector and the eternal sacrifice itself. Of the Vedas, you are the Sāma Veda, complete with all limbs and sub-limbs, the very embodiment of the great vow. O Viṣṇu, you produce the nectar by which you uphold and nourish the worlds. All that exists—what is to be meditated upon and what is not, whatever moves in creation—has you as its essence. You are the sun, the turner of the ages, the ascetic and the supreme renunciate. Among serpents, you are Ananta; among snakes, you are Takṣaka. You are the playful movement within homes, the household deities who dwell within every dwelling. You are the very body of lightning, and among all things radiant, you are the greatest brilliance. You are faith itself, O Lord of the gods, and you are the remover of faults, O Mādhava. You are Garuḍa, the mighty bearer, the ultimate refuge. You are victory and triumph, and again, the household deities within homes. You are Bhaga, the sign of poison, the supreme one, the highest Self. Therefore, O Lord of the worlds, you alone are worthy to rescue me, who am sunk in sorrow.” Thus, the hymn of Keśava was spoken. Whoever, firm in vow, recites this hymn will find blessings: a sonless man may obtain a son, a poor man may gain wealth. This hymn should be recited to the great-souled Mādhava at both twilights. Even if recited letter by letter, it will yield the intended result. So concludes the one hundred thirteenth chapter, named “The Hymn to Viṣṇu,” in the glorious Varāha Purāṇa. Thereafter, as the blessed Varāha incarnation, the Lord was praised by sages well-versed in sacred mantras. Mādhava then entered into divine and proper meditation. Out of devotion and love for the goddess Earth, who had remained steadfast, he spoke gently, “For your sake I will uphold you, along with your mountains, forests, and groves.” Thus comforting the Earth, Mādhava assumed a form six thousand in height, and in breadth, three thousand again.