Religion
Book XVI, 17
Translated by W. R. Paton (1916–18) · From The Greek Anthology (Loeb, vol. V, 1918)
O Pan, sound a holy air to the feeding flocks, running thy curved lips over the golden reeds, that they may often bring home to Clymenus teeming gifts of white milk in their udders, and that the lord of the she-goats, standing in comely wise at thy altar, may belch the red blood from his shaggy breast.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this poem
MLA
Anonymous (Greek Anthology). “Book XVI, 17.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-greek-anthology/943/.
Chicago
Anonymous (Greek Anthology). “Book XVI, 17.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-greek-anthology/943/.
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