Far away the brilliant, untiring Maruts cling to their young maid, as if she belonged to them all; but the terrible ones did not drive away Rodasi, for they wished her to grow their friend.  When the divine Rodasi with dishevelled locks, the manly-minded, wished to follow them, she went, like Surya,[4] to the chariot of her servant, with terrible look, as with the pace of a cloud.  As soon as the poet with the libations, O Maruts, had sung his song at the sacrifice, pouring out Soma, the youthful men placed the young maid in their chariot as their companion for victory, mighty in assemblies.  I praise what is the praiseworthy true greatness of those Maruts, that the manly-minded, proud, and strong one drives with them towards the blessed mothers.  They protect Mitra and Varuna from the unspeakable, and Aryaman also finds out the infamous.  Even what is firm and unshakable is being shaken; but he who dispenses treasures, O Maruts, has grown in strength.  No people indeed, whether near to us, or from afar, have ever found the end of your strength, O Maruts!  The Maruts, strong in daring strength, have, like the sea, boldly surrounded their haters.  May we to-day, may we tomorrow in battle be called the most beloved of Indra.  We were so formerly, may we truly be so day by day, and may the lord of the Maruts be with us.  May this praise, O Maruts, this song of Mandarya, the son of Mana, the poet, ask you with food for offspring for ourselves!  May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain!

XIX

Who knows their birth? or who was of yore in the favor of the Maruts, when they harnessed the spotted deer?  Who has heard them when they had mounted their chariots, how they went forth?  For the sake of what liberal giver did they run, and their comrades followed, as streams of rain filled with food?  They themselves said to me when day by day they came to the feast with their birds:  they are manly youths and blameless; seeing them, praise them thus; they who shine by themselves in their ornaments, their daggers, their garlands, their golden chains, their rings, going on their chariots and on dry land.  O Maruts, givers of quickening rain, I am made to rejoice, following after your chariots, as after days going with rain.  The bucket which the bounteous heroes shook down from heaven for their worshipper, that cloud they send along heaven and earth, and showers follow on the dry land.  The rivers having pierced the air with a rush of water, went forth like milk-cows; when your spotted deer roll about like horses that have hasted to the resting-place on their road.  Come hither, O Maruts, from heaven, from the sky, even from near; do not go far away!  Let not the Rasa, the Anitabha, the Kubha, the Krumu, let not the Sindhu delay you!  Let not the marshy Sarayu prevent you!  May your favor be with us alone!  The showers come forth after the host of your chariots, after the terrible Marut-host of