The FUMIGATION from a Variety of ODORIFEROUS SUBSTANCES. Mother of Gods, great nurse of all, draw near, Divinely honor'd, and regard my pray'r: Thron'd on a car, by lions drawn along, By bull-destroying lions, swift and strong, Thou sway'st the sceptre of the pole divine, And the world's middle seat, much-fam'd, is thine. Hence earth is thine, and needy mortals share Their constant food, from thy protecting care: From thee at first both Gods and men arose; From thee, the sea and ev'ry river flows. Vesta, and source of good, thy name we find To mortal men rejoicing to be kind; For ev'ry good to give, thy soul delights; Come, mighty pow'r, propitious to our rites, All-taming, blessed, Phrygian saviour, come, Saturn's great queen, rejoicing in the drum. Celestial, ancient, life-supporting maid, Fanatic Goddess, give thy suppliant aid; With joyful aspect on our incense shine, And, pleas'd, accept the sacrifice divine.

The FUMIGATION from FRANKINCENSE. Daughters of Jove, dire-sounding and divine, 1 Renown'd Pierian, sweetly speaking Nine; To those whose breasts your sacred furies fire Much-form'd, the objects of supreme desire: Sources of blameless virtue to mankind, Who form to excellence the youthful mind; Who nurse the soul, and give her to descry The paths of right with Reason's steady eye. Commanding queens who lead to sacred light The intellect refin'd from Error's night; And to mankind each holy rite disclose, For mystic knowledge from your nature flows. Clio, and Erato, who charms the sight, With thee Euterpe minist'ring delight: Thalia flourishing, Polymina fam'd, Melpomene from skill in music nam'd: Terpischore, Urania heav'nly bright, With thee * who gav'st me to behold the light. Come, venerable, various, pow'rs divine, With fav'ring aspect on your mystics shine; Bring glorious, ardent, lovely, fam'd desire, And warm my bosom with your sacred fire.

ONLY-Begotten, noble race of Jove, Blessed and fierce, who joy'st in caves to rove: 2 O, warlike Pallas, whose illustrious kind, Ineffable and effable we find: Magnanimous and fam'd, the rocky height, And groves, and shady mountains thee delight: In arms rejoicing, who with Furies dire And wild, the souls of mortals dost inspire. Gymnastic virgin of terrific mind, Dire Gorgons bane, unmarried, blessed, kind: Mother of arts, imperious; understood, Rage to the wicked., wisdom to the good: Female and male, the arts of war are thine, Fanatic, much-form'd dragoness, divine: 14 O'er the Phlegrean giants rous'd to ire, Thy coursers driving, with destruction dire. Sprung from the head of Jove, of splendid mien, Purger of evils, all-victorious queen. Hear me, O Goddess, when to thee I pray, With supplicating voice both night and day, And in my latest hour, peace and health, Propitious times, and necessary wealth, And, ever present, be thy vot'ries aid, O, much implor'd, art's parent, blue eyed maid.

(1) [Asclepius] Thou speak’st of God, then, O Thrice-greatest one?

[Trismegistus] Not only God, Asclepius, but all things living and inanimate. For ’tis impossible that any of the things that are should be unfruitful. For if fecundity should be removed from all the things that are, it could not be that they should be for ever what they are. I mean that Nature, Sense, and Cosmos, have in themselves the power of being born, and of preserving all things that are born. For either sex is full of procreation; and of each one there is a union, or,—what’s more true,—a unity incomprehensible; which you may rightly call Erōs or Aphroditē, or both [names].

The FUMIGATION from STORAX. O venerable goddess, hear my pray'r, For labour pains are thy peculiar care; in thee, when stretch'd upon the bed of grief, The sex as in a mirror view relief. Guard of the race, endued with gentle mind, To helpless youth, benevolent and kind; Benignant nourisher; great Nature's key Belongs to no divinity but thee. Thou dwell'st with all immanifest to sight, And solemn festivals are thy delight. Thine is the talk to loose the virgin's zone, And thou in ev'ry work art seen and known. With births you sympathize, tho' pleas'd to see The numerous offspring of fertility; When rack'd with nature's pangs and sore distress'd, The sex invoke thee, as the soul's sure rest; For thou alone can'st give relief to pain, Which art attempts to ease, but tries in vain; Assisting goddess, venerable pow'r, Who bring'st relief in labour's dreadful hour; Hear, blessed Dian, and accept my pray'r, And make the infant race thy constant care.

(1) But now I’ll finish for you what I have begun. For I was speaking at the start of union with the Gods, by which men only consciously enjoy the Gods’ regard,—I mean whatever men have won such rapture that they have obtained a share of that Divine Sense of intelligence which is the most Divine of Senses, found in God and in man’s reason.

[Asclepius] Are not the senses of all men, Thrice-greatest one, the same?

[Trismegistus] Nay, [my] Asclepius, all have not won true reason ; but wildly rushing in pursuit of [reason’s] counterfeit, they never see the thing itself, and are deceived. And this breeds evil in their minds, and [thus] transforms the best of animals into the nature of a beast and manners of the brutes.