Homeric hymn to Pan
"Mousa, tell me about Pan, the dear son of Hermes, with his goat's feet
and two horns - a lover of merry noise. Through wooded glades he
wanders with dancing Nymphai who foot it on some sheer cliff's edge,
calling upon Pan, the shepherd god (Theos Nomios), long-haired,
unkempt. He has every snowy crest and the mountain peaks and rocky
crests for his domain; hither and thither he goes through the close
thickets, now lured by soft streams, and now he presses on amongst
towering crags and climbs up to the highest peak that overlooks the
flocks. Often he courses through the glistening high mountains, and
often on the shouldering hills he speeds along slaying wild beasts,
this keen-eyed god. Only at evening, as he returns from the chase, he
sounds his note, playng sweet and low on his pipes of reed: not even
she could excel him in melody - that bird who flower-laden spring
pouring forth her lament uters honey-voiced song amid the leaves. At
that hour the clear-voiced Nymphai are with him and move with nimble
feet, singing by some spring of dark water, while Ekho wails about the
mountain-top, and the god on this side or on that of the choirs, or at
times sidling into the midst, plies it nimbly with his feet. On his
back he wears a spotted lynx-pelt, and he delights in high-pitched
songs in a soft meadow where crocuses and sweet-smelling hyacinths
bloom at random in the grass. They sing of the blessed gods and high
Olympos and choose to tell of such a one as luck-brining Hermes above
the rest, how he is the swift messenger of all the gods, and how he
came to Arkadia, the land of many springs and mother of flocks, there
where his sacred place is as god of Kyllene. For there, though a god,
he used to tend curly-fleeced sheep in the service of a mortal man,
because there fell on him and waxed a strong melting desire to wed the
rich-tressed daughter of Dryopos, and there he brought about the merry
marriage. And in the house she bare Hermes a dear son who from his
birth was marvellouse to look upon, with goat's feet and two horns - a
noisy, merry-laughing child. But when the nurse saw his uncouth face
and full beard, she was afraid and sprang up and fled and left the
child. Then luck-bringing Hermes received him and took him in his arms:
very glad in his heart was the god. And he went quickly to the abodes
of the deathless gods, carrying his son wrapped in warm skins of
mountain hares, and set him down beside Zeus and showed him to the rest
of the gods. Then all the immortals were glad in heart and Bakkheios
Dionysos in especial; and they called the boy Pan [derived from pantes
meaning 'all'] because he delighted all their hearts.
And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favour with a song." - Homeric Hymn 19 to Pan
Cult-hymn to Pan
"I sing of Pan, Nymphe-leader, darling of the Naiades, adornment of
golden choruses, lord of winsome muse when he pours forth the
god-inspired siren-song of the melodious syrinx, and stepping nimbly to
the melody leaps down from shadowy caves, moving his all-shape body,
fine dancer, fine of face, conspicuous with blond beard. To star-eyed
Olympos goes the all-tune sound, sprinkling the company of the Olympian
gods with immortal muse. All the earth and sea are mixed thanks to you,
for you are the bulwark of all, oh ie Pan, Pan!" - Greek Lyric V
Anonymous, Fragments 936
Orphic hymn to Pan
"To Pan, Fumigation from Odours. Strong pastoral Pan, with suppliant
voice I call, heaven, sea, and earth, the mighty queen of all, immortal
fire; for all the world is thine, and all parts of thee, o power
divine. Come, blessed Pan, whom rural haunts delight, come, leaping,
agile, wandering, starry light. Throned with the Horai (Seasons),
Bakkhanalian Pan, goat-footed, horned, from whom the world began; in
endless dance and melody divine. In thee a refuge from our fears we
find, those fears peculiar to humankind. Thee, shepherds, streams of
water, goats rejoice, thou lovest the chase and Ekho’s secret voice:
the sportive Nymphai thy every step attend, and all thy works fulfil
their destined end. O all-producing power, much-famed, divine, the
world’s great ruler, rich increase is thine. All-fertile Paian,
heavenly splendour pure, in fruits rejoicing, and in caves obscure.
True serpent-horned Zeus, whose dreadful rage, when roused, ‘tis hard
for mortals to assuage. By thee the earth wide-bosomed, deep and long,
stands on a basis permanent and strong. The unwearied waters of the
rolling sea, profoundly spreading, yield to thy decree. Old Okeanos,
too, reveres thy high command, whose liquid arms begird the solid land.
The spacious air, whose nutrimental 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 formed, obey. All natures change through
thy protecting are, and all mankind thy liberal bounties share; for
these, wherever dispersed through boundless space, still find thy
providence support their race. Come, Bakkhanalian, blessed power, draw
near, enthusiastic Pan, thy suppliants hear, propitious to these holy
rites attend, and grant our lives may meet a prosperous end; drive
panic fury too, wherever found, from humankind to earth’s remotest
bound." - Orphic Hymn 11 to Pan
