Prayer to Apollo
I call to you, Apollo, son of thundering Zeus
and Leto whose grace and goodness have no equal.
Apollo of the flowing hair, fair as the day,
bright as the heart of the sun, I offer you praise,
I offer you devotion. O glorious one,
you turn away all evil; you grant to us
your blessing of a hale and hearty body,
a wise and wary mind; you give voice
to the songs of our spirit. I call out to you,
O god of the laurel, Apollo who has no peer,
whose hands are as skillful upon the lyre
as with the bow, such greatness is yours to grant
to those who are worthy. Far-shooting Apollo,
master of words of beauty and of insight:
friend of the muses, a quick wit and a honeyed tongue
are your gifts to those you favor; the work of prophets
is yours as well, O god of smoke and shaken bones.
You fire our hearts, you hone our wits, you light the shadows
cast by ignorance and fear; god of the holy isle,
god of the coal-black bird, I thank you for your works,
O radiant one, I pray to you for all good.