Daughter of Jove, Persephone divine,
Come, blessed queen, and to these rites incline:
Only-begotten, Pluto’s honored wife,
O venerable Goddess, source of life:
It’s thine in earth’s profundities to dwell,
Fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell.
Jove’s holy offspring, of a beauteous mien,
Avenging Goddess, subterranean queen.
The Furies’ source, fair-haired, whose frame proceeds
From Jove’s ineffable and secret seeds.
Mother of Bacchus, sonorous, divine,
And many-formed, the parent of the vine.
Associate of the Seasons, essence bright,
All-ruling virgin, bearing heavenly light.
With fruits abounding, of a bounteous mind,
Horned, and alone desired by those of mortal kind.
O vernal queen, whom grassy plains delight,
Sweet to the smell, and pleasing to the sight:
Whose holy form in budding fruits we view,
Earth’s vigorous offspring of a various hue:
Espoused in autumn, life and death alone
To wretched mortals from thy power is known:
For thine the task, according to thy will,
Life to produce, and all that lives to kill.
Hear, blessed Goddess, send a rich increase
Of various fruits from earth, with lovely Peace:
Send Health with gentle hand, and crown my life
With blessed abundance, free from noisy strife;
Last in extreme old age the prey of Death,
Dismiss we willing to the realms beneath,
To thy fair palace and the blissful plains
Where happy spirits dwell, and Pluto reigns.