Iv

O Pan of the evergreen forest, Protector of herds in the meadows, Helper of men at their toiling,— Tillage and harvest and herding,— How many times to frail mortals Hast thou not hearkened!

Now even I come before thee With oil and honey and wheat-bread, Praying for strength and fulfilment Of human longing, with purpose Ever to keep thy great worship Pure and undarkened.

* * * * *

O Hermes, master of knowledge, Measure and number and rhythm, Worker of wonders in metal, Moulder of malleable music, So often the giver of secret Learning to mortals!

Now even I, a fond woman, Frail and of small understanding, Yet with unslakable yearning Greatly desiring wisdom, Come to the threshold of reason And the bright portals.

* * * * *

And thou, sea-born Aphrodite, In whose beneficent keeping Earth, with her infinite beauty, Colour and fashion and fragrance, Glows like a flower with fervour Where woods are vernal!

Touch with thy lips and enkindle This moon-white delicate body, Drench with the dew of enchantment This mortal one, that I also Grow to the measure of beauty Fleet yet eternal.