Hymn XXXII: To Pallas

Only-begotten, noble race of Jove,
Blessed and fierce, who joy'st in caves to rove :
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 Gorgon's bane, unmarried, blessed, kind :
Mother of arts, impetuous ; understood
As fury by the bad, but wisdom by the good.
Female and male, the arts of war are thine,
O much-form'd, dragoness , inspir'd, divine :
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 give peace and health,
Propitious times, and necessary wealth,
And ever present be thy vot'ries aid,
O much implor'd, art's parent, blue-ey'd maid.