Savitr has risen to his constant duty and spreads his broad hands so that all may see. Waters and wind obey. Swift horses are unyoked and the moving chariot is stopped; night follows his rule. The weaver folds what was spread out and the skilled man leaves his work half finished. Agni's household light spreads through the dwellings and a mother gives her son the best share. The one who went out for gain returns; every man turns home at the god's command. Beasts, birds and even Varuna go to their places. No god breaks his law.
The poet calls Agni, Mitra-Varuna, Night and Savitr. Savitr comes through the dark sky in a golden car hung with pearl, with a golden pole and two white-footed bays, laying mortal and immortal to rest and looking on every creature. He travels by the upward and the downward path. There are three heavens, two of them Savitr's and one in Yama's world. The poet asks where the sun now is and to which heaven its ray has gone. Golden-handed Savitr drives off sickness and demons, bids the sun approach, and is praised at evening; his old paths in the air are dustless.
What is different here:
Follows the god on his night journey instead of watching the earth; adds the three heavens, Yama's world and the question about the sun.