1Agni, the bright face of the Dawns, is shining: the singers' pious voices have ascended. Borne on your chariot, Asvins, turn you hither, and come unto our brimming warm libation!

2Most frequent guests, they scorn not what is ready: even now the lauded Asvins are beside us. With promptest aid they come at morn and evening, the worshipper's most healthful guards from trouble.

3Yea, come at milking-time, at early morning, at noon of day, and when the Sun is setting, By day, at night, with most auspicious favour! Not only now the draught hath drawn the Asvins.