In ancient times, the wise and noble sought to honor the great, ever-growing ones, offering their reverence to those who guided humanity forward. Leaders of men called upon the ancient peoples to advance, invoking blessings and favor for the broad-minded and mighty sages. They raised beautiful praises to Indra, the lord of power, acknowledging that the wise never stray from his commands. Through their hymns, the people placed Indra—unconquerable in spirit—among the other kings, forging companionship for the tawny-horsed one amidst the sacrificial grass, in sacred union. The devotees prayed to Indra, desiring mastery as far as he himself extended, entrusting their singers to his care for gifts and protection, never for harm. Day by day, they resolved to learn how best to honor the generous Maghavan, wherever they might be, for apart from him, there was no other source of wealth—not even a father. They called out to Indra, the mountain-dweller, asking him to hear the voice of the Soma-pourer and perceive the thoughts of the inspired chanter, seeking his favor so they might be joined with him. The wise assured Indra that they would never reject his words nor the praise of the powerful Asura, always proclaiming his name and glory. For among men, Indra received countless offerings, and many inspired ones invoked him, pleading not to be deprived of his favor. A shout was raised for Indra, foremost in battle, even from afar. In every gathering and contest, the Vritra-slayer was urged to remember his devotees, breaking the bows of others on the battlefield. Indra, who released the rivers and struck down the lowly, shattered frost and remained unconquered, born for victory, granting all desirable things. The people embraced him, praying again that the bows of others be broken in battle. They wished that all hostile powers would be scattered far, just as enemies vanish, and their thoughts remain firm. Indra was called upon to bring destruction to those who sought to harm his devotees, his gifts surpassing all others, his bowstring drawn in battle. The praiser, endowed with wealth, sought prosperity through Indra, urging him to come swiftly to the pressed Soma. Indra missed nothing—the hymns recited, the wealth praised, the songs sung—all were known to him. The people pleaded that Indra not let them fall into weakness or be given over to others, but to grant them strength through his powers. Indra was invited to come with his steeds to the praise of Kanva, to ascend to the heaven of the one who commands, where he dwelled by day. In that heaven, the wheels of the chariots never broke, nor did the wolf shake them. The stone itself was called to speak to Indra, the Soma-drinker, calling out with sound as he ascended to that heavenly abode. Soma was urged to flow, delighting Indra, most sweet with honey. The pressed juices, full of wisdom and bright, flowed to Vayu. They raced for the gods’ favor, swift as chariots. Among the gods, Agni was recognized as the Hotar, generous and strong, all-knowing and inspired, upright and self-ordained, worthy of worship. He followed the stream of ghee, his bright flames accepting the clarified butter. The people called upon Agni, most fit for sacrifice, greatest of the Angirases, with their thoughts and the thoughts of the inspired. Like the sky that encompasses all, Agni was the Hotar of peoples, with shining hair, mighty and guiding the clans. Agni, even with great strength, shone resplendent, far from deceit, like an axe that never deceives. He heard all, even what was firmly fixed in his assembly, as if in the forest. Enduring, he measured and led, unconquered in battle. Agni’s fame and vigor were ever new and great; his radiant flames shone forth, granting praiseworthy prizes to the worshiper. Radiant in splendor, pure in brightness, never lacking light, Agni rose with his beam, filling both worlds as a son moves between mother and father. Jātavedas, offspring of strength, was invited to rejoice in the well-wishes of the people, established by their thoughts, bestowing riches of great form, wondrously born. Shining, Agni was called to manifest among beings, granting wealth and filling the devotees with visible power and insight. He was the maker of sacrifice, wise and sustaining great gifts, bestowing generous and fortunate bounty, abundant food, and enduring wealth. The people of old placed the bull, Agni, who sees all, in harmony for favor, setting him as the most renowned and widely praised through all human ages. With Agni’s help and heroic strength, one crossed over with deeds of valor, fostering friendship. His dark-hued form was kindled by the priest, placed in the fire, beloved of the dawns and nights, reigning among dwellings. The plants placed the sacrificial embryo, the waters as mothers generated Agni, and the trees and herbs, those bearing within and those that flow, all together produced him, the universal. Agni was purified for Indra, shining bright in heaven, born like a mighty bull. He who keeps watch was desired by the hymns, the chants went to him, and Soma said to him, “I am yours in friendship, I dwell with you.” Agni kept watch, the hymns and chants went to him, and Soma repeated, “I am yours in friendship, I dwell with you.” Homage was offered to the companions who sat before and those who sit together now. Speech was harnessed with a hundred paths, the song sung with a thousand turns, in the Gāyatra, Triṣṭubh, and Jagat meters. These forms the gods gathered and made their abodes. Agni is light, light is Agni; Indra is light, light is Indra; Sūrya is light, light is Sūrya. Finally, the prayer was raised: “Return again with nourishment, return again, Agni, with food and life; return again, protect us from harm.