Ὀρφεύς προς Μουσαίον – Orféfs pros Mousaíon¶
Learn, O Musaeus, from my sacred song
What rites most fit to sacrifice belong.
Jove I invoke, the earth, and solar light,
The moon’s pure splendor, and the stars of night.
Thee, Neptune, ruler of the sea profound,
Dark-haired, whose power can shake the solid ground;
Ceres abundant, and of lovely mien,
And thee, chaste Proserpine, great Pluto’s queen;
The huntress Dian, and bright Phoebus rays,
Far darting God, the theme of Delphic praise;
And Bacchus, honored by the heavenly choir,
Impetuous Mars, and Vulcan, god of fire.
The illustrious power who sprung from foam to light,1
And Pluto, potent in the realms of night;
With Hebe young, and Hercules the strong,
And you to whom the cares of births belong.2
Justice and Piety august I call,
And much famed Nymphs, and Pan the God of all.
To Juno sacred, and to Memory fair,
And the chaste Muses I address my prayer;
The various Year, the Graces, and the Hours,
Fair-haired Latona, and Dione’s powers;
The Corybantes and Curetes armed I call,
And the great Saviors, sons of Jove, the king of all:
The Idaean Gods, the angel of the skies,
Prophetic Themis with sagacious eyes,
With ancient Night, and Daylight I implore,
And Faith and Dice source of blameless laws adore;
Saturn and Rhea, and great Thetis too,
Hid in a veil of dark celestial blue.
I call great Ocean, and the beauteous train
Of Ocean’s daughters in the boundless main:
The strength of Atlas ever in its prime,
Vigorous Eternity, and endless Time.
The splendid Stygian pool, and placid Gods beside,
And daemons good and bad that o’er mankind preside;
Illustrious Providence, the noble train
Of daemon forms, who fill the ethereal plain;
Or live in air, in water, earth, or fire,
Or deep beneath the solid ground retire.
The white Leucothea of the sea I call,
And Semele, and Bacchus’s associates all;
Palaemon bounteous, and Adrastia great,
And sweet-tongued Victory, with success elate;
Great Esculapius, skilled to cure disease,
And dread Minerva, whom fierce battles please;
Thunders and Winds in mighty columns pent,
With dreadful roaring struggling hard for vent;
Attis, the mother of the powers on high,
Mensis, and pure Adonis, never doomed to die,
End and Beginning (greatest this to all),
These with propitious aid I suppliant call,
To this libation, and these sacred rites;
For these to accede with joyful mind, my verse invites.