O ye gods, if you could tell us
What ye are — if banned or blest —
Ye that reigned of old in Hellas!
Ye that ruled the radiant West!
Old-born gods! The Past still flashes
In the eyes of Greece and Rome;
Ye are not mere dust and ashes
Urned for all the years to come.
Ye that ruled in heavenly places,
And the faith of mortals won!
Gods created by old races
Perished from beneath the sun;
Born of faith, and with it blended,
Ye shall yet the world inspire
Till the last breath has ascended
From the latest altar fire.
All the hopes and invocations
Breathed by lips of heroes dead,
All the genius of the nations
Who the march of Freedom led —
Though your temples broke and fell as
Dusty fanes of little worth —
These will keep you, gods of Hellas!
Still alive upon the earth.