A collection of hymns compiled from ancient Greek and Latin texts, perfect for diversifying your practice. Hymns/invocations should be recited before prayer and offerings, it’s exciting that Hellenismos has as much ancient practices as most world religions.

Athena

“Fierce goddess, glory and genius of your great father,

You who are mighty in war, you who wear upon your cheeks

A savage helmet of beautiful horror,

You whose Gorgon-head rages ever more as blood spatters on it-

Neither Mars nor Bellona, spear-armed for battle,

Would drive forward more ardent battle-trumpets-

Give your approval to this sacrifice, whether you are coming

To witness my slaughter from Pandion’s mountain,

Or whether you, chorus-lover, are making a detour from Boeotian Itone,

Or whether you come having just washed your combed-back hair

In Libyan Triton, where the swift axle of your unspoiled mares

Bears you swiftly, as you clamor in your two-horse chariot:

Now I dedicate to you men’s broken spoils and shapeless plunder,

But if one day I enter again my ancestral fields of Porthaon

And Mars’ Pleuron lies open to me as I return from exile,

Then I shall dedicate to you golden temples on the heights at the city center,

Where it will be sweet to look down upon Ionian tempests,

Where turbulent Achelous, lifting up the sea with his blond head,

Goes out to sea, leaving the obstructing Echinades in his wake.

Here I will fashion the battles of my ancestors and the dreadful faces

Of great-hearted kings; I will affix in proud domes

Captured arms, both those that I brought back myself,

Obtained with my own blood, and those that you,

Tritonia, will grant on the day that Thebes is captured.

There a hundred Calydonian women, vowed to your virgin altars,

Will weave for you in proper fashion from a chaste tree

Actaean torches and purple head-bands with white partitions;

An elderly priestess will feed an unsleeping fire on the hearth-

Never will she neglect the secret symbol of reverence.

In war and in peace, you will receive in great numbers,

According to custom, the first fruits of our labors;

And Diana will offer no objection.”

-Statius, Thebaid

Hera

“Almighty Queen of Heaven, remember when Jupiter made the skies grow

wild with black clouds and sheets of rain; remember when Thundering

Jupiter commanded Your return to the marriage bed and how You,

frightened with sudden capture and at being left destitute following

Your rape, sought only how to flee; remember how it was I who carried

You upon my shoulders across the storm swollen Enipeus, when it

carried away its banks to flood the Thessalian plane, and all were

carried before its torrents. Grant, Juno, that I may arrive safely to

Scythia where the Phasis flows. And You, virgin Minerva, snatch me

away from harm. I, even I then, will set that plucked fleece in your

shrine, and my father, relieved and grateful, will dedicate snow white

cattle from herds and lead them to your altar with gilded horns.”

-Argonautica

Phales

(perfect for Dionysian worship)

“Phales, companion of Bacchus,

fellow reveler, rover of the night,

adulterer, and pederast,

I, happy to have returned to my deme

in the sixth year, address you,

I who have made a treaty for

myself, and have been freed from

troubles, battles, and “Larnachi.”

Phales, Phales, far more

sweet is it to find a ripe,

thieving wood-carrier, that

Thratta, slave of Strymodoros,

from the stony ground, and to take her by

the middle, lift her up, throw

her down, and pit her cherry.

Phales, Phales,

if you will drink with us, after the

debauch, you will gulp down a cup

of peace at dawn, and the shield will

be hung in the hot ash.”

-Aristophanes, Acharnians

Helios

“Giant of gold! king of fire in the mind,

Ruler of light; with you, above all else,

The splendid source of life’s prolific fount;

And from on high you pour the wealth of your

Harmonic streams into our world of matter here.

Hear! for high above, on planes of ether,

And in the world’s bright middle realm you reign,

While all things by your sovereign power are filled

With mind-enflaming, providential care.

The fires of stars surround your vigorous fire,

And ever in unwearied, ceaseless dance,

Their vivid dew on earth’s wide bosom drops.

By your eternal and repeated course

The hours and seasons come and go;

And elements opposed are joined in harmony,

In sight of your majestic beams, great king,

From deity ineffable and secret born.

Unmoving Fates will yield to your command,

Roll back the fatal thread of mortal lives;

For wide-extended sovereign sway is yours.

From your fair series of attractive songs,

Divinely charming, Phoebus leaps forth

into light in joy; and with his god-like harp,

To rapture strung, he calms the raging din

Of dire-resounding Matter’s mighty flood.

And from your gentle dance, repelling harm,

A healing Hymn expands its light,

Diffusing Health, and filling all the world

With streams of harmony.

You, too, they celebrate in sacred song

The illustrious source whence mighty Bacchus came;

In matter’s utmost churning depths they chant

“Euan Ate” to you forever,

While others sound your praise in tuneful verse,

As famed Adonis, delicate and fair.

Ferocious daemons, noxious to mankind,

Dread the dire anger of your rapid scourge;

These Daemons plot a thousand ills,

And hatch their plans for wretched souls

That founder in life’s dreadful-sounding seas.

Enslaved and shackled by the body’s chains,

Souls lose all thought of fire sublime

And in the dark abyss they writhe.

O best of gods, spirit blessed and crowned with fire,

Image of nature’s all-producing god,

And leader of our souls to realms of light-

Hear! and purify my stains of guilt;

Receive the supplication of my pleas,

And wash away the poison from my wounds!

Release me from the torments of my sins,

And mitigate the swift, all-seeing eye

Of justice, boundless in its view!

By your pure law, the constant foe of evil,

Direct my steps, and pour your sacred light

In rich abundance on my darkened soul!

Dispel the dismal and malignant shades

Of darkness, pregnant with invenomed ills!

Give me strength! And give my body

Health, whose presence splendid gifts imparts.

Give lasting fame; and give that sacred care

That fair-haired muses, long ago,

Gave to my pious forebears.

Add, if it please you, o, all-bestowing god,

Reward my piety with your enduring wealth;

Because the power and strength of all

The Universe invests your throne.

And if the whirling spindle of the fates

Spins threats and dangers from web of stars,

May your arrows, rays of light, sound through the air

And vanquish ere it falls the coming ill.”

– Proclus Lycaeus (412-485 C.E.)

“For Helios’ lot is toil every day,

Nor is there ever time to rest for him

Or for his horses, when the rosy-fingered

Dawn has left the ocean and entered the sky.

For a lovely, hollow bed of priceless gold,

Equipped with wings- a bed Hephaestus forged-

Carries him, as he delights in sleep,

Through the waves, atop the water’s surface,

All the way from the Hesperides’ western home

To the Ethiopian land, where his speedy chariot

And horses stand and wait until the Dawn,

The early-born one, comes upon the scene.

Then the son of Hyperion mounts his car.”

-Mimnermus of Colophon

Gaia

“O eternal creatress of men and gods alike,

You who bring forth rivers, forests, all the seeds

Of living souls for the world, the works

Of Prometheus’ hands and the stones of Pyrrha,

And who first gave nourishment to unfed men

And changed them, you who both

Encircle the ocean and carry it along:

In your power are the gentle race of livestock,

The wrath of wild beasts, and the rest of birds;

O firm and unmoved bulwark of the never-setting cosmos,

The swift machinery of heaven surrounds you

As you hang in empty air; so too both chariots

Go around you, o middle of all things, undivided

By the great brothers! Therefore you alone suffice

As nourisher for so many races at once,

So many lofty cities and peoples, both below and above;

And while star-bearing Atlas struggles to hold up

The celestial dwellings, you yourself

Carry him with no effort:

Do you refuse to bear us alone?

Do you find us an intolerable burden?”

-P. Papinius Statius

“Holy goddess Earth, mother of the nature of creation,

You generate and regenerate all things from the same source,

Because you alone provide vital force to the various species.

You hold authority over sky and sea, over all things;

Through you nature falls silent and takes hold of sleep-

Likewise you renew the light and drive off the night.

You cover the shades of Dis and the boundless void;

You restrain the winds, the rains, and the storms,

And, when it pleases you, you release them

As you churn up the seawaters, put the sun to flight, and stir up gales.

So, too, when you wish, you send forth joyful day again.

You bestow the nourishments of life with unwavering good faith,

And, when our breath is gone, we find refuge in you;

Thus, all things, whatever you bestow, fall back to you at last.

Justly are you called Great Mother of the Gods,

Since you have outdone the celestial deities’ godheads in pious service;

You are that true mother of mortal races and of gods,

Without whom nothing can ripen, nothing can be born;

You are Great and you are queen of the gods, o goddess.

To you, divine one, I pray, and I invoke your power-

May you readily provide this which I ask of you,

And I will return my thanks to you, divine one, with merited good faith.

Hear me, I ask you, and show favor to my undertakings;

Willingly grant to me this which I seek from you.

All the herbs that your majesty produces

You bestow upon every race for the sake of health;

Now entrust this your healing power to me.

May the gift of healing come to me together with your other powers;

Whatever I do in accordance with these, may it have a favorable outcome,

And as for those to whom I give these same powers and those who

receive them from me,

May you make them whole. Finally now, goddess, may your majesty

Provide to me this which I beg of you as a suppliant.”

-Antonius Musa, Precatio Terrae

“Holy Goddess, Tellus, Mother of all Nature, engendering all things

and regenerating them each day, as You alone bring forth from Your

womb all things into life.

Heavenly Goddess, overseeing all things on earth and throughout the

seas, in whatever by silent nature is restored in sleep and in death,

in the same way that You put to flight the Night with the Light You

restore each day.

Earth, Enricher of Life, You dispel the dark shadow of death and the

disorder of vast endless Chaos. You hold back the winds and storms,

the rain showers and tempests. You alone regulate the weather cycles,

either bestirring or putting to flight the storm, interspersing them

with cheerful days.

You give the Food of Life unfailingly, in fidelity, and when the soul

by necessity departs, in You alone do we find refuge. Thus, whatever

You give, in You all will be returned. Deservedly are You called Great

Mother of the Gods. Piously then are all the celestial powers

distilled in You. The One and True parent of all living things, human

and divine. Without You nothing could be born, nothing could grow, and

nothing mature.

You are the Great Goddess, the Queen of Heaven, You, Goddess, I adore.

I call upon Your power, come. Make what I ask to be readily and easily

accomplished, and draw my thanks, Mother Earth, that, in fidelity, You

do rightly merit

Hear me, please, and favor me. This I ask of You, Holy Mother, and may

You willingly give answer to me: May whatever herbs grow by Your

providence bring health to all humankind. May You now send these forth

to me as Your medicines. May they be filled with Your healing virtues.

May everything that I prepare from these herbs have good result, each

and every one in the same way. As I shall receive these herbs from

You, so too shall I willingly give them out to others, so that their

health too may be ensured through Your good graces. Finally, Mother

Earth, ensure Your healing powers for me as well. This I humbly ask.”

-Antonius Musa, Precatio Terrae

Underworld gods

“O you dwellings of Tartarus, and you,

Fearful kingdom of insatiable Death,

And you too, most savage of the three brothers,

You to whom the shades have been given as servants,

You who control the eternal punishments of the guilty

And who command the obedience of the palace of the netherworld:

Open, in response to my knock, the silent regions

And the void that belongs to stern Persephone;

Call forth the crowd hidden away in night’s hollow darkness,

And let the ferryman retrace the Styx with a fully laden boat.

All of you proceed together, but let there not be only one way

For the ghosts to emerge into daylight; you, Perses’ daughter,

Assemble in a separate throng the pious inhabitants of Elysium,

And let the mist-shrouded Arcadian lead them

With his mighty scepter; but as for those who died in crime-

The lion’s share of Erebus’ inhabitants, and most of them of Cadmus’ blood-

You, Tisiphone, be their leader and show them the daylight,

After shaking out your snakes three times; go before them

With a flaming yew-torch, and let Cerberus not interpose

His three heads to turn aside those light-craving shades.”

-Statius, Thebaid

Apollo

“Phoebus Apollo, bearer of health, for You we compose our song, and

favorably promote Your discoveries. With Your healing arts, You lead

life back when it is withdrawn from us and recall us from joining the

Manes in Heaven. You who formerly dwelt in the temples of Aegea,

Pergamum, and Epidaurum, and who drove off the Python from Your

peaceful house at Delphi, sought a temple at Rome to Your glory, by

expelling the foul presence of illness. Come to me now as each time

You have fondly strengthen me when often You were called, and may You

be present in all that is set out in this book.

-Sammonicus, Praefatio Liber Medicinalis

“Father Phoebus, whether the thorn-bushes of Patara occupy you

On the snowy ridges of Lyciae, or whether it pleases you

To dip your blond hair in the chaste waters of Castalia,

Or whether, under your title of Thymbraean, you occupy Troy, where, they say,

You once willingly lifted Phrygian stones on shoulders that received

no gratitude,

Or whether Leto’s Cynthus, that strikes the Aegean with its shadow,

Pleases you, and not to seek Delos, now fixed in the sea:

Arrows are yours, and a bow to be bent against savage foes

Far off, and your heavenly parents have granted as a gift

That your cheeks blossom with youth eternally; you have the skill

To know in advance the unjust hands of the Fates, the destiny that waits beyond,

And what highest Jove will decide, whom a death-bringing year awaits,

To what peoples wars will come, what scepters comets change;

You force the Phrygian to submit to your lyre, for your mother’s honor

You stretch out earth-born Tityon on Stygian sands;

When you triumphed in your quiver, green Python and the Theban mother

Shuddered; for you, the avenger, fierce Megaera,

Oppresses with eternal dinner-reclining starving Phlegyas

Who lies beneath hollow cliffs- she goads him with profane dishes,

But mingled nausea overcomes his hunger.

May you be present, mindful of our hospitality, and may you propitiously

Show love to Juno’s fields- whether it is better you be called ‘rosy Titan,’

According to the rite of the race of Achaemenes, or whether you should be called

‘Grain-bearing Osiris,’ or ‘Mithras,’ who twists bull’s horns that are

loath to follow

Beneath the rocks of Perses’ cave.”

-Statius, Thebaid

“O Lord, o child of Zeus and son of Leto,

Never, when beginning or when ending,

Shall I forget to sing of you- your name

Will ever be first, and middle, and last for me.

Hear me, then, and grant me excellent gifts.

Lord Phoebus, when the goddess, Lady Leto,

Laid hold of a palm-tree’s trunk with her slender hands

And gave you birth beside the circular lake-

You, handsomest by far of all the immortals-

Then all of Delos’ expanse, from end to end,

Was filled up with the scent of holy ambrosia;

The enormous Earth let out a delighted laugh;

And the gray sea’s deep abyss brimmed full of joy.”

-Theognis

Aphrodite

“Hail, Paphian goddess! For all mortals,

Whose lives are but a day, pay honor always

To your power, your immortal beauty,

And your majesty which breeds desire,

In all their beauteous words and beauteous works.

For you make known the honor you possess

To everyone, and everywhere on Earth.”

-Anthologia Palatina

Hermes

“Hermes, the martial pleasure of an age,

Hermes, well-learned in all arms,

Hermes, both gladiator and teacher,

Hermes, confusion and terror of his school,

Hermes, the only one whom Helius fears,

Hermes, the only one for whom Advolans fell,

Hermes, taught to conquer, not kill,

Hermes, himself his substitute,

Hermes, wealth of the scalpers,

Hermes, care and heartthrob of the slave-girls,

Hermes, warlike and arrogant with a spear,

Hermes, menacing with a sea trident,

Hermes, his plumed helmet drooping, to be feared,

Hermes, glory of all kinds of war,

Hermes, alone is all and three in one.”

-Marcus Valerius Martialis

“Come, Mercury, by whose minstrel spell

Amphion raised the Theban stones,

Come, with thy seven sweet strings, my shell,

Thy “diverse tones,”

Nor vocal once nor pleasant, now

To rich man’s board and temple dear:

Put forth thy power, till Lyde bow

Her stubborn ear.

She, like a three-year colt unbroke,

Is frisking o’er the spacious plain,

Too shy to bear a lover’s yoke,

A husband’s rein.

The wood, the tiger, at thy call

Have follow’d: thou caust rivers stay:

The monstrous guard of Pluto’s hall

To thee gave way,

Grim Cerberus, round whose Gorgon head

A hundred snakes are hissing death,

Whose triple jaws black venom shed,

And sickening breath.

Ixion too and Tityos smooth’d

Their rugged brows: the urn stood dry

One hour, while Danaus’ maids were sooth’d

With minstrelsy.

Let Lyde hear those maidens’ guilt,

Their famous doom, the ceaseless drain

Of outpour’d water, ever spilt,

And all the pain

Reserved for sinners, e’en when dead:

Those impious hands, (could crime do more?)

Those impious hands had hearts to shed

Their bridegrooms’ gore!

One only, true to Hymen’s flame,

Was traitress to her sire forsworn:

That splendid falsehood lights her name

Through times unborn.

“Wake!” to her youthful spouse she cried,

“Wake! or you yet may sleep too well:

Fly—from the father of your bride,

Her sisters fell:

They, as she-lions bullocks rend,

Tear each her victim: I, less hard

Than these, will slay you not, poor friend,

Nor hold in ward:

Me let my sire in fetters lay

For mercy to my husband shown:

Me let him ship far hence away,

To climes unknown.

Go; speed your flight o’er land and wave,

While Night and Venus shield you; go

Be blest: and on my tomb engrave

This tale of woe.”

-Horace, Odes

“Mercurius Cyllenius, principle author of all sacred knowledge, at

times within Heaven, at other times travelling within the starry signs

to open the celestial paths to the highest parts above and the lowest

paths beneath the earth. You stitch together the stars in the empty

void of space into constellations, name them and determine their

course; may it have been for us to reverently use the greater powers

of the universe that You make, pondering them, not in all matters, but

in the potential of things in themselves, and to learn of the divine

plan set for the greatest nations”

-Astronomicon 1.30ff

Olympian Eros

This hymn is to Aphrodite’s son, who shouldn’t be confused with primeval Eros AKA Phanes.

“You lead off, Cypris, as your prisoners

The unbending minds of the gods and of men, too-

And with you, the gleaming-winged one,

Surrounding you with his surpassingly swift wings.

He flies over the earth and the loud-sounding salt sea,

And he bewitches anyone whose maddened heart he assails-

Eros, winged, shining like gold.

He bewitches whelps born in the mountains

And those sprung from the sea, all the creatures the earth nurtures,

All those on which the blazing sun gazes,

And men as well. You, Cypris, you alone

Wield royal authority over all these beings.”

-Euripides, Hippolytus

Artemis

“O Lady, most reverend Lady,

Offspring of Zeus, hail,

Hail, o Artemis, daughter

Of Leto and Zeus, o most

Beautiful of maidens by far,

You who dwell within

The vast expanse of heaven,

In your noble father’s palace,

The golden house of Zeus-

Hail, most beautiful one,

Most beautiful of those

Who dwell on Mount Olympus.”

-Euripides, Hippolytus

“Diana’s faith inbred we bear

Youths whole of heart and maidens fair,

Let boys no blemishes impair,

And girls of Dian sing!

O great Latonian progeny,

Of greatest Jove descendancy,

Whom mother bare ‘neath olive-tree,

Deep in the Delian dell;

That of the mountains reign thou Queen

And forest ranges ever green,

And coppices by man unseen,

And rivers resonant.

Thou art Lucína, Juno hight

By mothers lien in painful plight,

Thou puissant Trivia and the Light

Bastard, yclept the Lune.

Thou goddess with thy monthly stage,

The yearly march doth mete and guage

An d rustic peasant’s messuage,

Dost brim with best o’ crops,

Be hailed by whatso name of grace,

Please thee and olden Romulus’ race,

Thy wonted favour deign embrace,

And save with choicest aid.”

-C. Valerius Catullus, Carmina

Hygieia

“Health, most venerated by mortals of all the blessed gods, May I live

with you the rest of my life, and may you be with me willingly. For if

there is any joy in wealth, or in children, Or in royal rule that

makes men like gods, Or in the desires that we hunt with Aphrodite’s

secret snares, Or if any other delight or rest from toils Is revealed

to men by the gods, It is with you, o blessed Health, That it blossoms

and shines with the conversation of the Graces. But without you, not a

single man is happy.”

-Ariphron of Sicyon

Hestia

“We shall sing of you, Hestia, Holy mistress of sacrifices, You who

hold sway forever Both on Olympus and at the navel Of the Earth, where

Pytho’s laurel grows- You who dance through the high-gated temple Of

Phoebus Apollo, you who delight In the mantic pronouncements from the

tripods And whenever Apollo plucks his seven-stringed Golden lyre,

joining you in exalting The festive gods with song. Hail, daughter of

Cronus and Rhea, You who alone make the much-honored Altars of the

immortals to blaze with fire, Hestia, and give to us this gift In

recompense for our prayers: That we may always, abounding in wealth,

Dance around the hearth- Your gleaming throne.”

-Aristonous of Sicyon

Dioscuri

“Leave Pelops’ island and come hither for me, You mighty sons of Zeus

and Leda, And appear with benevolent spirit, Castor And Polydeuces,

You who travel over the broad earth And all the sea on swift-footed

horses And easily rescue men from Ice-cold death- Leaping from afar

onto the tops of Well-benched ships, shining as you run up The

forestays, bringing light in the troubled night To a black ship.”

-Alcaeus, Fragment 34

Muses

“Muses and Graces, Daughters of Zeus, who came of yore to the wedding

of Cadmus and sang so fair a song, ‘What is fair is dear, and not dear

what is not fair,’ —such was the song that passed your immortal lips.”

-Theognis of Megara

“As one who is dear to the Muses,

I shall hand over sadness and fear

To the wild winds, to carry

Off to the Cretan Sea.

For I am uniquely unworried

As to what king of a chilly

Land beneath the Bear

Is currently being dreaded,

As to just what’s frightening

Tiridates at the moment.

O you who rejoice in fountains

Never touched before,

Sweet Lady of Pipleia,

Weave a crown of flowers

Kissed by sunlight; weave

A garland for my Lamia.

The honors I bestow

Are powerless without you;

To sanctify this man

With a novel lyre,

To sanctify him with

A plectrum borrowed from Lesbos,

Is a task befitting

You and your sisters too.”

-Horace, Odes

“Splendid children of Memory and Olympian Zeus, give ear, Pierian

Muses, unto my prayer. Grant me prosperity at the hands of the Blessed

Gods, and good fame ever at the hands of men; make me, I pray You,

sweet to my friends and sour unto my foes, to these a man reverend to

behold, to those a man terrible. Wealth I desire to possess, but would

not have it unrighteously;22 retribution cometh alway afterward; the

riches that be given of the Gods come to a man for to last, from the

bottom even to the top, whereas they which be sought by wanton

violence come not orderly, but persuaded against their will by

unrighteous works —and quickly is Ruin mingled with them; whose

beginning is with a little thing as of fire, slight at the first, but

in the end a mischief; for the works of man’s wanton violence endure

not for long, but Zeus surveyeth the end of every matter, and

suddenly, even as the clouds in Spring are quickly scattered by a wind

that stirreth the depths of the billowy unharvested sea, layeth waste

the fair fields o’er the wheat-bearing land, and reaching even to the

high heaven where the Gods sit, maketh the sky clear again to view,

till the strength of the Sun shineth fair over the fat land, and no

cloud is to be seen any more, —even such is the vengeance of Zeus; He

is not quick to wrath, like us, over each and every thing, yet of him

that hath a wicked heart is He aware alway unceasing, and such an one

surely cometh out plain at the last. Aye, one payeth to-day, another

to-morrow; and those who themselves flee and escape the pursuing

destiny of Heaven, to them vengeance cometh alway again, for the price

of their deeds is paid by their innocent children or else by their

seed after them.

We mortal men, alike good and bad, are minded thus: —each of us

keepeth the opinion he hath ever had23 till he suffer ill, and then

forthwith he grieveth; albeit ere that, we rejoice open-mouthed in

vain expectations, and whosoever be oppressed with sore disease

bethinketh himself he will be whole; another that is a coward thinketh

he be a brave man; or he that hath no comeliness seemeth to himself

goodly to look upon; and if one be needy, and constrained by the works

of Penury, he reckoneth alway to win much wealth. Each hath his own

quest; one, for to bring home gain, rangeth the fishy deep

a-shipboard, tossed by grievous winds, sparing his life no whit,

another serveth them whose business lieth with the curvad ploughshare,

ploughing the well-planted land for them throughout the year24; one

getteth his living by the skill of his hands in the works of Athena

and the master of many crafts, Hephaestus, another through his

learning in the gifts of the Olympian Muses, cunning in the measure of

lovely art; others again as physicians, having the task of the Master

of Medicines, the Healer —for these men too there’s no end of their

labours, for often cometh great pain of little and a man cannot

assuage it by soothing medicines, albeit at other times him that is

confounded by evil and grievous maladies maketh he quickly whole by

the laying on of hands; another again the Far-Shooting Lord Apollo

maketh a seer, and the mischief that cometh on a man from afar is

known to him that hath the Gods with him, for no augury nor offering

will ever ward off what is destined to be.

Aye, surely Fate it is that bringeth mankind both good and ill, and

the gifts immortal Gods offer must needs be accepted; surely too

there’s danger in every sort of business25; nor know we at the

beginning of a matter how it is to end26; nay, sometimes he that

striveth to do a good thing falleth unawares into ruin great and sore,

whereas God giveth good hap in all things to one that doeth ill, to be

his deliverance from folly. And as for wealth, there’s no end set

clearly down27; for such as have to-day the greatest riches among us,

these have twice the eagerness that others have, and who can satisfy

all?28 ‘Tis sure the Gods give us men possessions, yet a ruin is

revealed thereout, which one man hath now and another then, whensoever

Zeus sendeth it in retribution.”

-Solon