In the ancient dawn, the seekers lift their voices to Varuṇa, the great guardian of cosmic order, calling upon his gracious mind to come swiftly to them, like a chariot drawn by noble horses. With their hymns, they yearn to reach him, to touch his presence. As they sing, their angers and disturbances fall away, seeking prosperity, much like birds returning to their nests at the end of the day. They wonder, “When shall we, O Varuṇa, wise lord, perform for you the service that brings the glory of kingship?” They long to honor him, who is ever gracious and far-seeing. The reward for such steadfast devotion is like a shared prize, sought by those who never turn away, by the worshippers who hold fast to their vows. For Varuṇa knows the paths of birds as they fly through the vast mid-air; he knows the ships that traverse the ocean’s expanse. He, steadfast in his vow, knows the twelve months, each filled with offspring and new beginnings; he knows all that is born. He knows the path of the wind, broad and lofty, and he knows those who dwell above. Varuṇa, unwavering in his commitment, has taken his seat among the dwellings, bringing good counsel for sovereignty. From there, the wise one beholds all wonders—he sees what has been done and what is yet to come. May the wise Āditya, day after day, guide us on the good path and carry us safely across the span of our lives. Varuṇa, adorned in a golden mantle, has donned his shining robe; his spies are stationed everywhere, vigilant and watchful. No one who seeks to harm, no deceitful one among men, no hostile force can overcome this god. He is the one among men who has made unequaled fame, and may that renown dwell within us. The thoughts of the worshippers flow forth, like cows following their pastures, longing for the far-seeing Varuṇa. They wish to speak with him again, offering words sweet as honey, like a priest to one who is dear. They pray, “May I see the all-seeing one, may I see him standing on his chariot; accept these my songs.” They call out, “Hear this my plea, O Varuṇa, and be gracious today; the one seeking help has turned to you. You, wise one, rule over all, both heaven and earth; hear us in this our journey. Release for us the highest bond, and the middle one, O Cṛta; let the lowest remain for life.” As the rituals continue, the garments are prepared for the Lord of strength, the master of nourishment. They offer the sacrifice for him. The worthy Hotar, ever youthful, is invited to sit with their hymns—O Agni, with the heavenly speech. The father offers for the son, for protection; the friend, worthy of friendship, makes offerings. Varuṇa, Mitra, and Aryaman, the righteous ones, are called to sit upon the sacred grass as men do, sharing in the ritual. The worshippers rejoice in their ancient Hotar and in their friendship, asking the gods to listen to their songs. Even with perpetual offspring, they worship each god; the offering is kindled in Agni. May the lord of the people, the delightful and worthy Hotar, be dear to them; they are dear to their own Agnis. For their own Agnis, the gods have granted the prize; they honor their own Agnis. Then, among both immortals and mortals, let there be mutual praises. With all the Agnis, O Agni, with all the gods, they offer the sacrifice and the speech, seeking strength and glory. Like a horse with splendid strength, the worshippers praise Agni with reverence, sovereign among the sacrifices. He, their son—powerful, far-reaching, and most gracious—may he be generous to them. From both far and near, from mortal harm and evil, they ask Agni, the universal guardian, to protect them always. Their new song, O Agni, is declared among the gods as their support. Agni is asked to distribute prizes in the highest, middle, and lowest realms, and to teach them the wealth of the innermost. He is the divider of the waves of the river, radiant and swift, coming near to the worshipper. Whom Agni protects among men in battles, whom he aids in contests, that person attains perpetual riches. No one can withstand his approach, whoever he may be; the prize is for fame. May he, renowned among all peoples, bring the prize with swift horses and wise men. Awakened with age, the worshippers discern, in each gathering, to offer the hymn to Rudra, worthy of sacrifice. May that great one—mighty, smoke-bannered, radiant before them—stir their thoughts for the prize. Thus, in reverence and devotion, the seekers call upon the gods, offering hymns and sacrifices, seeking guidance, protection, and glory, trusting in the wisdom and grace of Varuṇa, Agni, and all the divine ones.