Verse 8

⁸Lord of sacrifice, Person of the sacrifice, Unfallen, whose feet are the holy fords, whose fame is a holy ford, whose name is auspicious to hear; you who rise to quiet the trouble of a world in distress, first of all: make us well, ruler, Bhagavan. You are the master of the wretched. ⁹To the all; to him by whom the all is made and held and gathered back; who takes up of his own will the strands of his great power; to the wide one, resting in himself, whose full awareness, growing and never ceasing, has done away with the darkness within: to Hari, salutation to you. ¹⁰Long life, a body such as one would wish, fortune past compare, heaven, earth, the waters below, all that yoga brings, the three ends, and knowledge pure and entire: these come to men from you when you are pleased, Endless one. What then of such a wish as the beating of rivals?