Earth

To Earth, the fruitful mother, ever young,
To whom we owe our birth, our praise is sung.
The Titans, gods, the monsters, mortals, call
You by the name of mother one and all.
From you the Titans sprang; the gods you nursed,
Great monsters rose from you, though they were cursed;
Of mortals every kind came from your womb,
And whatsoever plant does sprout and bloom;
And every skill to raise them you employ,
Their flourishing is all your care and joy.
All parent of your children’s life the source,
The moon around you runs her nightly course;
As gifts the sun sends you his beaming rays.
Your spinning dance marks all our life our days.
Your inner reaches, hidden depths profound,
Whom Heaven loves, encircling all around.
Let all your children reverence you and show
Great honour for those gifts which you bestow.

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