with my bow will I put to flight the flocks of feathered fowls that harm his sacred offerings; for here in Phœbus' shrine, which nurtured me, I minister, an orphan, fatherless and motherless.
Come, thou tender laurel-shoot, gathered from gardens divine to wait upon the glorious god, thou that sweepest clean the altar of Phœbus hard by his shrine, where holy founts, that ever gush with ceaseless[1] flow, bedew the myrtle's hallowed spray wherewith I cleanse the temple-floor the livelong day, so soon as the swift sun-god wings his flight on high, in my daily ministration. Hail Pæan, prince of healing! blest, ah! doubly blest be thou, child of Latona! Fair the service that I render to thee, Phœbus, before thy house, honouring thy seat of prophecy; a glorious task I count it, to serve not mortal man but deathless gods; wherefore I never weary of performing holy services. Phœbus is to me as the father that begot me, for as such I praise the god that gives me food. 'Tis Phœbus, who dwelleth in the temple, whom I call by that helpful name of father. Hail Pæan, healing god, good luck to thee and blessing, child of Latona! My task is nearly done of sweeping with the laurel broom, so now from a golden ewer will I sprinkle o'er the ground water from Castalia's gushing spring, scattering the liquid dew with hands from all defilement free. Oh may I never cease thus to serve Phœbus, or, if I do, may fortune smile upon me!
Ha! they come, the feathered tribes, leaving their nests on Parnassus. I forbid ye to settle on the coping or enter the gilded dome. Thou herald of Zeus, that masterest the might of other birds with those talons of thine, once more shall my arrow o'ertake thee.
Lo! another comes sailing towards the altar, a swan this
- ↑ τὰν ἀέναον—there is something wanting to the metre, and the text is probably corrupt. Various suggestions for an emendation have been offered, e.g., γᾶς τὰν by Hermann, ῥυτὰν by Fritzsch, etc.
