His heavenly course he joys to run,
Maker of Day, the golden sun.
The steeds that whirl his car are seven,[1011]
The flaming steeds that flash through heaven.
Lord of the sky, the conqueror parts
The clouds of night with glistering darts.
He, master of the Vedas' lore,
Commands the clouds' collected store:
He is the rivers' surest friend;
He bids the rains, and they descend.