To Apollon Musagetes


Descending down, like a warm beam to the waiting earth,
Tender hearts rejoice, welcome and recieve him with joy.
His bow he lays at his golden feet the arrows set aside,
Into his hands the lyre draws up, a melody the strings sing.
To his company Muses, Graces and Nymphs do flock,
To sweetly sing and gracefully dance to his immortal song.
The Horai spin around, their dance the slow wheel turning,
Ushering the passing of time, and the heavens turn on course.

And there do the fair faced goddesses dance hand gracing hand,
Whom staturely Athena of the high-crowned brow dances among.
Artemis sets aside torch and bright arrow and bow to take her place,
Greatly loved of her brother, loved of nymphs and loved of dance’s song.
And there is winning Aphrodite, dancing among those beyond her touch,
Her dance in the winsome song of love, that sways listening hearts.
But no influence of the heart is greater than Musagetes own lifting song!

Most holy god of the lyre, most beloved leader of the light-voiced Muses,
The heavens, earths and seas bow before your trembling strings.
They sweeten and shake the vaulted skies, and soothe the restless earth,
The clawed lion lays down submissively beneath that thrumming light.
You who turn hearts and minds by the message of your lulling song,
I pray that your song join to me, by your will to sing of the immortal gods!

From your hand you send down Terpsichord, to whisper holy hymn,
Into the waiting ear that recieves your golden song, and sings it again.
Greatest inspiror, these hands that write, my mortal hands never err,
When composing and weaving the arts of fable, story, lore and holy hymn.
I pray that I communicate in clear voice, a song worthy of your love,
And that it fall upon the earth and be remembered for this short mortal time.


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