Produce a store of beauteous fruits and flow’rs,
All-various maid, th’ eternal world’s strong base
Immortal, blessed, crown’d with ev’ry grace;
From whose wide womb, as from an endless root,
Fruits, many-form’d, mature and grateful shoot.
Deep bosom’d, blessed, pleas’d with grassy plains,
Sweet to the smell, and with prolific rains.
All flow’ry dæmon, centre of the world,
Around thy orb, the beauteous stars are hurl’d
With rapid whirl, eternal and divine,
Whose frames with matchless skill and wisdom shine.
Come, blessed Goddess, listen to my pray’r,
And make increase of fruits thy constant care;
With fertile Seasons in thy train, draw near,
And with propitious mind thy suppliant hear.