Atharva Veda 6.22: To the Maruts or Storm-Gods

Dark the descent; the strong-winged birds are golden: they fly aloft to heaven, enrobed in waters.
They have come hither from the seat of Order, and inundated earth with streams of fatness.

Ye make floods rich in milk, make plants propitious, what time ye stir, O golden-breasted Maruts!
Pour down your showers of vigorous strength and favour there where ye sprinkle mead, O Maruts, heroes!

O Maruts, send ye down, streaming with water rain which, may, filling all the sloping valleys, Leap like a bold girl in a man's embraces, or like a matron tumbled by her husband.