Hear the choir of boy and maid,
Mighty child of mightiest Jove,
Thou whom royal mother laid
In the Delian olive grove-
That thou mightest be the lady
Of all woods that bud in spring,
Of all glades remote and shady,
Of all rivers echoing.
Thou wert cradled 'mid the seas,
Guarded was thine infant state
With the glistening Cyclades,
With the wave inviolate-
That thou mightest be the warden
Of all holy loves and pure,
When, as in a fencèd garden,
Chaste affections bloom secure.
Hear the choir of boy and maid,
Mighty child of mightiest Jove:
Take the wreath before thee laid,
Take the incense of our love.