Again and again newly born though ancient,
Decking her beauty with the self-same colours,
The goddess wastes away the life of mortals,
Like wealth diminished by the skilful player (i. 92, 10).
The following stanzas from one of the finest hymns to Dawn (i. 113) furnish a more general picture of this fairest creation of Vedic poetry:—
This light has come, of all the lights the fairest,
The brilliant brightness has been born, far-shining.
Urged onward for god Savitṛi’s uprising,
Night now has yielded up her place to Morning.
The sisters’ pathway is the same, unending: