Atharvaveda 20.135

Bang! here he is. A dog,

Swish! it is gone. Falling of leaves.

Crunch! it is trodden on. A cow's hoof.

These Gods have gone astray. Do thou, Adhvaryu, quickly do thy work.

There is good resting for the cows. Take thy delight.

O singer, the Ādityas brought rich guerdon to the Angirases. Singer, they went not near to it. Singer, they did not take the gift.

Singer, they went not near to that; but, singer, they accepted this: That days may not be indistinct, nor sacrifices leaderless.

And quickly Both he fly away, the White Horse swiftest on his feet, And swiftly fills his measure up.

Ādityas, Rudras, Vasus, all pay worship unto thee. Accept this liberal gift, O Angiras, This bounty excellent and rich, this ample bounty spreading far.

The Gods shall give the precious boon: let it be pleasant to your hearts. Let it be with you every day: accept our offerings in return.

Vouchsafe us shelter, Indra, thou to be invoked from far away. Bring treasure hither to reward the far-famed bard who praises thee.

Thou, Indra, to the trembling dove whose pinions had been rent and torn. Gayest ripe grain and Pilu fruit, gavest him water when athirst.

The ready praiser loudly speaks though fastened triply with a strap. Yea, he commends the freshening draught, deprecates languor of disease.