The Orphic Hymn from Thomas Taylor
I Call strong Pan, the substance of the whole, etherial, marine, earthly, general soul,
Immortal fire; for all the world is thine, and all are parts of thee, O pow’r divine.
Come, blessed Pan, whom rural haunts delight, come, leaping, agile, wand’ring, starry light;
The Hours and Seasons [Horai], wait thy high command, and round thy throne in graceful order stand.
Goat-footed, horned, Bacchanalian Pan, fanatic pow’r, from whom the world began,
Whose various parts by thee inspir’d, combine in endless dance and melody divine.
In thee a refuge from our fears we find, those fears peculiar to the human kind.
Thee shepherds, streams of water, goats rejoice, thou lov’st the chace, and Echo’s secret voice:
The sportive nymphs, thy ev’ry step attend, and all thy works fulfill their destin’d end.
O all-producing pow’r, much-fam’d, divine, the world’s great ruler, rich increase is thine.
All-fertile Pæan, heav’nly splendor pure, in fruits rejoicing, and in caves obscure.
True serpent-horned Jove [Zeus], whose dreadful rage when rous’d, ’tis hard for mortals to asswage.
By thee the earth wide-bosom’d deep and long, stands on a basis permanent and strong.
Th’ unwearied waters of the rolling sea, profoundly spreading, yield to thy decree.
Old Ocean [Okeanos] too reveres thy high command, whose liquid arms begirt the solid land.
The spacious air, whose nutrimental fire, and vivid blasts, the heat of life inspire
The lighter frame of fire, whose sparkling eye shines on the summit of the azure sky,
Submit alike to thee, whole general sway all parts of matter, various form’d obey.
All nature’s change thro’ thy protecting care, and all mankind thy lib’ral bounties share:
For these where’er dispers’d thro’ boundless space, still find thy providence support their race.
Come, Bacchanalian, blessed power draw near, fanatic Pan, thy humble suppliant hear,
Propitious to these holy rites attend, and grant my life may meet a prosp’rous end;
Drive panic Fury too, wherever found, from human kind, to earth’s remotest bound.
A Modern Ode to the Great Pan: Harmonizer of the Cosmos by Frater OD
Harken to the ethereal harmonies of Pan, essence interwoven through all that breathes, across the seas’ vast canvas, through the quivering earth, and the boundless skies — omnipresent spark, you who ignite life’s dance throughout the cosmos, great Pan, in your fiery realm we are but echoes of your eternal song.
Bless us, Pan of the Arcadia, whose heart revels in the rustic wilds; nimble-footed, traversing the night-sky’s tapestry in a celestial ballet. Around your throne, the Horai and Seasons bow, orchestrating time in an elegant spiral under your sovereign gaze.
Goat-footed harbinger of Bacchus’ frenzy, architect of existence, your whispered breath orchestrates the symphony of life, crafting harmonious chaos from the cosmos’ cradle. In you, we find solace from the mortal coil’s dread, a sanctuary amidst the tempest of our kind.
To you, the shepherds sing, the mountain streams murmur your name, and the meadows’ denizens caper in your honor. You are the muse of the hunt and Echo’s unseen consort, and in your revelry, the nymphs delight, their laughter weaving through your divine narrative.
All-generating Pan, deity of manifold fame, your plentiful grace suffuses the world. Bountiful Paean, in radiant splendor, you revel in the secret depths and in the sun-kissed groves. Bearing the true guise of serpent-crowned Zeus, your might, once roused, challenges even the bravest souls.
Upon your unyielding foundations, the earth’s expanses anchor, while the everlasting seas, your domain vast, unfurl their rhythmic waves at your command. Old Ocean, too, pays homage, his briny arms encircling terra’s embrace. Ether’s nurturing breath and spirited fires, adrift in the heavens, bow to your decree — for you bind the elements in sacred oath, orchestrating the grand cosmic ballet.
Through your vigilant ward, all nature undergoes sacred evolution, and mankind basks in your generous plenty. For dispersed through the endless void, our very existence is cradled by your benevolent rule.
Draw near, O Pan, wrapped in bacchanal might, hearken to this reverent call. Bless our journey with your wondrous spirit; let our path converge with fortune’s light. Expel from us the shadows of panic and dread, banished to the confines of oblivion’s edge.
Awaken within us the ancient chords of the world’s first symphony, and in this holy communion, we are forever entwined, under the gaze of your pastoral divinity.
