The consort I invoke of Jove divine,
Source of the holy, sweetly-speaking Nine;
Free from the oblivion of the fallen mind,
By whom the soul with intellect is joined.
Reason’s increase and thought to thee belong,
All-powerful, pleasant, vigilant, and strong.
It’s thine, to waken from lethargic rest
All thoughts deposited within the breast;
And naught neglecting, vigorous to excite
The mental eye from dark oblivion’s night.
Come, blessed power, thy mystics’ memory wake
To holy rites, and Lethe’s fetters break.