IV

    Hast thou not hearkened!

Now even I come before thee
With oil and honey and wheat-bread,
Praying for strength and fulfilment
Of human longing, with purpose

Ever to keep thy great worship
    Pure and undarkened.

O Hermes, master of knowledge,
Measure and number and rhythm,
Worker of wonders in metal,

Moulder of malleable music,
So often the giver of secret
    Learning to mortals!

Now even I, a fond woman,
Frail and of small understanding,

Yet with unslakable yearning
Greatly desiring wisdom,
Come to the threshold of reason
    And the bright portals.

And thou, sea-born Aphrodite,