Atharva Veda 4.27: A hymn to the Maruts

I think upon the Maruts: may they bless me, may they assist me to this wealth in battle.
I call them like swift well-trained steeds to help us. May they deliver us from grief and trouble.

Those who surround the never-failing fountain for ever, and bedew the plants with moisture, The Maruts, Prini's sons, I chiefly honour. May they deliver us from grief and trouble.

Bards, who invigorate the milk of milch-kine, the sap of growing plants, the speed of coursers To us may the strong Maruts be auspicious. May they deliver us from grief and trouble.

They who raised water from the sea to heaven and send it from the sky to earth in showers, The Maruts who move mighty with their waters, may they deliver us from grief and trouble.

They who delight in nectar and in fatness, they who bestow upon us health and vigour.
The Maruts who rain mighty with their waters, may they deliver us from grief and trouble.

Whether with stormy might the Maruts established this All, or Gods with their celestial power, Ye, kindly Gods, are able to restore it. May they deliver us from grief and trouble.

Potent in battles is the Maruts' army, impetuous train, well-known, exceeding mighty.
I, suppliant, praise and oft invoke the Maruts. May they deliver us from grief and trouble.