Rig Veda 8.91

Down to the stream a maiden came, and found the Soma by the way. Bearing it to her home she said, For Indra will I press thee out, for Sakra will I press thee out.

Thou roaming yonder, little man, beholding every house in turn, Drink thou this Soma pressed with teeth, accompanied with grain and curds, with cake of meal and song of praise.

Fain would we learn to know thee well, nor yet can we attain to thee. Still slowly and in gradual drops, O Indu, unto Indra flow.

Will he not help and work for us? Will he not make us wealthier? Shall we not, hostile to our lord, unite ourselves to Indra now?

O Indra, cause to sprout again three places, these which I declare,- My father's head, his cultured field, and this the part below my waist.

Make all of these grow crops of hair, you cultivated field of ours, My body, and my father's head.

Cleansing Apala, Indra! thrice, thou gavest sunlike skin to her, Drawn, Satakratu! through the hole of car, of wagon, and of yoke.