Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn't have to do it himself.
A. H. Weiler
Hymn to Pan 1
By The Hymns of Orpheus
I call strong Pan, the substance of the whole,
Etherial, marine, earthly, general soul,
Immortal fire; for
all the world is thine,
And all are parts of thee, O pow'r divine.
Come, blessed Pan, whom rural haunts delight,
Come, leaping,
agile, wand'ring, starry light;
The Hours and Seasons, wait thy
high command,
And round thy throne in graceful order stand.
Goat-footed,
horned, Bacchanalian Pan,
Fanatic pow'r, from whom the world began,
Whose various parts by thee inspir'd, combine
In endless dance
and melody divine.
In thee a refuge from our fears we find,
Those
fears peculiar to the human kind.
Thee shepherds, streams of water,
goats rejoice,
Thou lov'st the chace, and Echo's secret voice: (23)
The sportive nymphs, (24) thy ev'ry step attend,
And all thy
works fulfill their destind end.
O all-produci'ng pow'r,
much-fam'd, divine,
The world's great ruler, rich increase is
thine.
All-fertile Paean, heav'nly splendor pure,
In fruits
rejoicing, and in caves obscure. (25)
True serpent-horned Jove,
(26) whose dreadful rage
When rous'd, 'tis hard for mortals to
asswage.
By thee the earth wide-bosom'd deep and long,
Stands
on a basis permanent and strong.
Th' unwearied waters of the
rolling sea,
Profoundly spreading, yield to thy decree.
Old
Ocean too reveres thy high command,
Whose liquid arms begirt the
solid land.
The spacious air, whose nutri'mental fire,
And
vivid blasts, the heat of life inspire;
The lighter frame of fire,
whose sparkling eye
Shines on the summit of the azure sky,
Submit
alike to thee, whose general sway
All parts of matter, various
form'd, obey
All nature's change thro' thy protecting care,
And
all mankind thy lib'ral bounties share:
For these where'er
dispers'd thro' boundless space,
Still find thy providence support
their race.
Come, Bacchanalian, blessed power draw near,
Fanatic
Pan, thy humble suppliant hear,
Propitious to these holy rites
attend,
And grant my life may meet a prosperous end;
Drive
panic Fury too, wherever found,
From human kind, to earth's
remotest bound
To flip through the pages of my BOS faster...
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Brightest of Blessings