Then priests and maids and warriors, all Approaching at Vaśishṭha’s call, With sacred drops bedewed their king, The centre of a joyous ring, The guardians of the worlds, on high, And all the children of the sky From herbs wherewith their hands were filled Rare juices on his brow distilled.

In plain words: Priests, young women and warriors all come forward to sprinkle holy water on their king. Even the gods in the sky pour rare herbal juices on his forehead.