“ What time the Holy One, wind-urged, hath risen up, serpent-like winding through the dry grass unrestrained, Dust lies upon the way of him who burneth all, black-winged and pure of birth who follows sundry paths. 8. Like a swift chariot made by men who know their art, he with his red limbs lifts himself aloft to heaven. Thy worshippers become by burning black of hue: their strength flies as before a hero's violence. ”

“ As to the first he rose, the vigorous from of old, so now he runs among the younger lowest ones. 6. Therefore they choose him Herald at the morning rites, pressing to him as unto Bhaga, pouring gifts, When, much-praised, by the power and will of Gods, he goes at all times to his mortal worshipper to drink. ”