The sages and men of old always praised Agni, the lord of the people—ever youthful, ever a guest in their homes, guiding their thoughts and swift to answer the worshippers. With reverence and offerings, they honored him as the knower of births and the consciousness presiding over sacrifices, seeking his favor for increase and prosperity. Agni, the wise and beneficent god, encompassed the lands with his mighty presence, riding a splendid chariot. In their households, the devotees approached his nourishing vows with well-spoken words, inviting his blessings. As Vaiśvānara, Agni’s many abodes were established, making him the knower of light and the discerning one. Born anew, he filled the worlds—heaven and earth alike—and encompassed all creation with his own self. From the teeth of Vaiśvānara, the great poet, unique in power, Agni was born, honoring both parents—heaven and earth—with abundant seed. The devotees prayed for Agni to awaken for them, ever mindful and pure, granting the favor of wealth. They called upon him, their friend, to bring the gods for the sacrifice, inviting his companions with a gracious mind. Agni, whom the gods themselves—Varuṇa, Mitra, and Agni—worship thrice daily, was asked to make the sacrifice sweet for them. Tanūnapāt, established in the ghee-born altar, was invoked to bless the ritual. The radiant one, all-blessing, advanced; the first priest, Iḻa, led the sacrifice. With reverence, the devotees praised the bull, who, inspired, worshiped the gods and was most worthy of sacrifice. Agni’s path at the sacrifice was upright, as were his flames, spreading through the spaces. The priest was set at the navel of heaven, and the sacred grass, the divine covering, was spread for the gods. The seven priests were chosen with mindful invocation, adorned in the assemblies. Born in gatherings, they moved through the ancient sacrifices, upholding the traditions. At dawn, the two sisters approached, displaying their varied forms. The devotees prayed that Mitra, Varuṇa, Indra with the Maruts, and other gods would delight in them with their greatness. The divine first priests were arranged, and the seven singers rejoiced in their own nature. They proclaimed truth, called it truth, and followed the vow, shining as guardians of the sacred vow. Bhāratī with the Bhāratīs, Iḻā with the gods and men, Agni, Sarasvatī with the Sarasvats—all these goddesses were invited to sit upon the sacred grass, united in blessing. The nourishing god Tvaṣṭar, who grants abundance, was invoked to be gracious. From him is born the heroic, skillful, well-equipped one, eager for the gods and acting with excellence. The offering was released to the gods like a tree bearing fruit; Agni, the pacifier, prepared the oblation. Thus the true Hotar worshipped, knowing the origins of the gods. Agni was called to come near, kindled together with Indra and the gods, with swift companions. Aditi and her good sons were invited to be seated on the sacred grass, so that the immortal gods might rejoice with the invocation. Agni, awakened and aware of the paths of the sages, arose as the priest, broad-footed and shining with divine radiance, dispelling the doors of darkness with his fire. He grew strong through praises, songs, and hymns of the worshippers, perceiving the many forms of truth. The messenger shone forth at dawn, carrying the offerings. Agni, the seed among men, established by Mitra through truth, arose from the worshipper’s offering. The sage, worthy of invocation, became the support of thoughts. When kindled, Agni became Mitra; Mitra was the Hotar, Varuṇa the knower of births. Mitra was the Adhvaryu, the inspired householder; Mitra was also of the rivers and mountains. Agni protected the beloved, the foremost path of the horse, and guarded the swift course of the sun. He preserved the navel of the seven-headed and the lofty likeness of the gods. The Ribhus fashioned the worthy, beautiful name; the god, knowing all skills, made every form. He wrapped the skin, the ghee-filled footstep; thus Agni protected, never ceasing. Agni entered the ghee-filled womb, broad-spreading, shining, and radiant. Pure, lofty, and bright, he was renewed again and again by his mothers. Newborn, he grew with the plants as they flourished, nourished by ghee. Like waters flowing and shining, Agni rested in the lap of his parents. Rising, praised, and kindled, the swift one shone from the navel of heaven and earth. Mitra, Agni, the worthy, Mātariśvan, the messenger, carried the offering to the gods. Kindled, Agni upheld the high heaven and became the highest of the shining realms. When Mātariśvan brought the hidden carrier of offerings to the Bhṛgus, Agni was kindled. The devotees prayed for Agni to grant abundant wealth, lasting possession of cows to those who invoke him. They asked that their son be victorious and wise, and for Agni’s favor to be with them. The singers, reflecting, led the divine hymn with devotion; givers of gifts, rich in offerings, brought the oblation to Agni, adorned with ghee. Agni filled the two worlds as he was born; gifts were brought and the offering prepared. In heaven and on earth, the devotees spoke of Agni’s seven-tongued fires. Heaven and earth, worthy of sacrifice, seated Agni as the Hotar in the house. The peoples, devoted, invoked his shining flame with abundant offerings. Great and firmly seated in his abode, Agni shone between heaven and earth, radiant. The two companions, ageless and unblemished, the nourishing cows of wide praise, stood beside him. Agni’s vows were great and mighty; by his power, he stretched out the two worlds. At his birth, he became the messenger and the leader, strong among peoples. The tawny-haired Agni was asked to harness the well-yoked, ghee-anointed red steeds of truth to the yoke. As Jātavedas, he was called to bring all the gods and make the ritual well-ordered. Even from the sky, Agni’s lights shone forth, following the ancient dawns as they brightened. When the gods delighted in the offering, they carried the oblations in the woods of the sacrificial fire. Whether rejoicing in the wide atmosphere or dwelling in the shining realm of heaven, or those gracious, worshipful ones who had come, Agni’s chariot-horses were called to bring them here. Agni was called to come with his chariot, or with many chariots, for he had many horses. He was asked to bring the thirty-three gods who have wives, each according to the ritual, and to rejoice. He was the priest for whom even the two worlds were broad, praised at every sacrifice. At the ritual, the two, right-ordered and true-born, stood facing east in the truth of the rite. The devotees prayed for Agni to grant abundant, lasting wealth of cattle, the best sustenance for those who invoke him. They asked that their son and his offspring be victorious and for Agni’s good favor to be with them. The seven voices entered the mother, mounting the back of the spotted bull. The two fathers, well-guarded, moved together, flowing forth and manifesting long life. The cows of heaven, the strong horses, the goddesses, stood bearing sweetness. In the seat of truth, the cow moved alone, seeking well-being. Now they ascended, becoming well-yoked; the wise lord of the givers knew their ways. The many-formed one, with a dark back, settled them, the one of many shapes. Thus, through these hymns and rituals, the story of Agni, the radiant priest and messenger, unfolds—honored by gods and men, ever present at the heart of sacrifice, bearing offerings and blessings, upholding truth and prosperity for all.