Pluto, magnanimous, whose realms profound
Are fixed beneath the firm and solid ground,
In the Tartarean plains remote from sight,
And wrapped forever in the depths of night.
Terrestrial Jove, thy sacred ear incline,
And pleased accept these sacred rites divine.
Earth’s keys to thee, illustrious king, belong,
Its secret gates unlocking, deep and strong.
It’s thine abundant annual fruits to bear,
For needy mortals are thy constant care.
To thee, great king, all–sovereign Earth’s assigned,
The seat of Gods and basis of mankind.
Thy throne is fixed in Hades’ dismal plains,
Distant, unknown to rest, where darkness reigns;
Where, destitute of breath, pale specters dwell,
In endless, dire, inexorable hell;
And in dread Acheron, whose depths obscure,
Earth’s stable roots eternally secure.
O mighty daemon, whose decision dread,
The future fate determines of the dead,
With captive Proserpine, through grassy plains,
Drawn in a four-yoked car with loosened reins,
Rapt o’er the deep, impelled by love, you flew
Till Eleusina’s city rose to view:
There, in a wondrous cave obscure and deep,
The sacred maid secure from search you keep,
The cave of Atthis, whose wide gates display
An entrance to the kingdoms void of day.
Of works unseen and seen thy power alone
To be the great dispensing source is known.
All-ruling, holy God, with glory bright,
Thee sacred poets and their hymns delight,
Propitious to thy mystics’ works incline,
Rejoicing come, for holy rites are thine.