Blessed Paean, come, propitious to my prayer,
Illustrious power, whom Memphian tribes revere,
Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health,
Lycorian Phoebus, fruitful source of wealth:
Spermatic, golden-lyred, the field from thee
Receives it’s constant rich fertility.
Titanic, Grunian, Smynthian, thee I sing,
Python-destroying, hallowed, Delphian king:
Rural, light-bearer, and the Muses’ head,
Noble and lovely, armed with arrows dread:
Far-darting, Bacchian, twofold, and divine,
Power far diffused, and course oblique is thine.
O Delian king, whose light-producing eye
Views all within, and all beneath the sky;
Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure,
Who reveals omens good, and precepts pure;
Hear me entreating for the human kind,
Hear, and be present with benignant mind;
For thou surveys this boundless ether all,
And every part of this terrestrial ball
Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight
Extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;
Beyond the darkness, starry-eyed, profound,
The stable roots, deep fixed by thee, are found.
The world’s wide bounds, all-flourishing, are thine,
Thyself all the source and end divine.
It’s thine all Nature’s music to inspire
With various-sounding, harmonizing lyre:
Now the last string thou tunes to sweet accord,
Divinely warbling, now the highest chord;
The immortal golden lyre, now touched by thee,
Responsive yields a Dorian melody.
All Nature’s tribes to thee their difference owe,
And changing seasons from thy music flow:
Hence, mixed by thee in equal parts, advance
Summer and Winter in alternate dance;
This claims the highest, that the lowest string,
The Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring:
Hence by mankind Pan royal, two-horned named,
Shrill winds emitting through syrinx1 famed;
Since to thy care the figured seal’s consigned,
Which stamps the world with forms of every kind.
Hear me, blessed power, and in these rites rejoice,
And save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.