Clouds, ever drifting in air, Rise, O dewy anatomies, shine to the world in splendour. Upward from thundering Ocean who fathered us rise, make way to the forested pinnacles. There let us gaze upon summits aerial opening under us; Earth, most holy, and fruits of our watering; rivers melodious, rich in divinity; seas, deep-throated, of echo reverberant. Rise, for his Eye, many-splendoured, unwearying, burns in the front of Heaven. Shake as a cloak from our heavenly essences vapour and rain, and at Earth in our purity with far-seeing eye let us wonder. Maidens that minister rain, Come, gaze down on the city of Pallas, the land of Cecrops. O for the lustre, the manhood, the charm of her! There are the Rites unspoken, inviolate, -- holy solemnities calling the faithful to Mysteries visible. Treasures of marble in high-roofed sanctuaries honour the Blessed; and holy processionals, feast and blood-offering, wreathing of flower on flower praise everlasting give them. Merrily also the choirs of Bromios herald the Spring with a battle of melody and music of clarinet droning. |