To the Titans. The Fumigation from Frankincense.
O Mighty Titans, who from heav'n and earth
Derive your noble and illustrious birth,
Our fathers fires, in Tartarus profound
Who dwell, deep merg'd beneath the solid ground:
Fountains and principles, from whom began
Th' afflicted, miserable, race of man:
Who not alone in earth's retreats abide,
But in the ocean and the air reside
Since ev'ry species; from your nature flows,
Which all prolific, nothing barren knows:
Avert your rage, if from th' infernal seats
One of your tribe should visit our retreats.
To the Curetes. The Fumigation from Frankincense.
Brass-beating Salians, ministers of Mars,
Who guard his arms the instruments of wars;
Whose blessed frames, heav'n, earth, and sea compose,
And from whose breath all animals arose
Who dwell in Samothracia's sacred ground,
Defending mortals thro' the sea profound,
Deathless Curetes, by your pow'r alone,
Initial rites to men at first were shewn:
Who shake old Ocean thund'ring to the sky,
And stubborn oaks with branches waving high.
'Tis your's in glittering arms the earth to beat,
With lightly-leaping, rapid, sounding feet
Then every beast the noise terrific flies,
And the loud tumult wanders thro' the skies
The dust your feet excites with matchless force,
Flies to the clouds amidst their whirling course
And ev'ry flower of variegated hue,
Grows in the dancing motion form'd by you.
Immortal dæmons, to your pow'rs consign'd
The task to nourish, and destroy mankind.
When rushing furious with loud tumult dire,
O'erwhelm'd, they perish in your dreadful ire;
And live replenish'd with the balmy air,
The food of life, committed to your care.
When shook by you, the seas, with wild uproar,
Wide-spreading, and profoundly whirling, roar
The concave heav'ns, with Echo's voice resound,
When leaves with rustling noise bestrew the ground.
Curetes, Corybantes, ruling kings,
Whose praise the land of Samothracia sings
From Jove descended; whose immortal breath
Sustains the soul, and wafts her back from death:
Aerial-form'd, much-fam'd, in heav'n ye shine
Two-fold, in heav'n all-lucid and divine:
Blowing, serene, from whom abundance springs,
Nurses of seasons, fruit-producing kings.
To Corybas. The Fumigation from Frankincense.
The mighty ruler of this earthly ball,
For ever flowing, to these rites I call
Martial and blest, unseen by mortal sight,
Preventing fears, and pleas'd with gloomy night:
Hence, fancy's terrors are by thee allay'd,
All-various king, who lov'st the des art shade:
Each of thy brothers killing, blood is thine,
Two-fold Curete, many-form'd, divine.
By thee transmuted Ceres' body pure,
Became a dragon's savage and obscure:
Avert thy anger, hear me when I pray,
And by fix'd fate, drive fancy's fears away.
To Ceres. The Fumigation from Storax.
O Universal mother, Ceres fam'd
August, the source of wealth, and various nam'd:
Great nurse, all-bounteous, blessed and divine,
Who joy'st in peace, to nourish corn is thine
Goddess of seed, of fruits abundant, fair,
Harvest and threshing are thy constant care
Who dwell'st in Eleusina's seats retir'd,
Lovely, delightful queen, by all desir'd.
Nurse of all mortals, whose benignant mind,
First ploughing oxen to the yoke confin'd
And gave to men, what nature's wants require,
With plenteous means of bliss which all desire.
In verdure flourishing, in honor bright,
Assessor of great Bacchus, bearing light:
Rejoicing in the reapers sickles, kind,
Whose nature lucid, earthly, pure, we find.
Prolific, venerable, Nurse divine,
Thy daughter loving, holy Proserpine:
A car with dragons yok'd, 'tis thine to guide,
And orgies singing round thy throne to ride:
Only-begotten, much-producing queen,
All flowers are thine and fruits of lovely green,
Bright Goddess, come, with Summer's rich increase
Swelling and pregnant, leading smiling Peace
Come, with fair Concord and imperial Health,
And join with these a needful store of wealth.
To the Ceralian Mother. The Fumigation from Aromatics.
Ceralian queen, of celebrated name,
From whom both men, and Gods immortal came;
Who widely wand'ring once, oppress'd with grief,
In Eleusina's valley sound'st relief,
Discovering Proserpine thy daughter pure
In dread Avernus, dismal and obscure
A sacred youth while thro' the world you stray
Bacchus, attending leader of the way;
The holy marriage of terrestrial Jove
Relating, while oppress'd with grief you rove;
Come, much invok'd, and to these rites inclin'd,
Thy mystic suppliant bless, with fav'ring mind,
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