adalbertsen

Thee, mighty-ruling, Daemon dread, I call, Octinomos, life-giving, and the source of all: Octinomos, much-wandering, terrible and strong, To whom revenge and tortures dire belong. Mankind from thee, in plentiful wealth abound, When in their dwellings joyful thou art found; Or pass through life afflicted and distressed, The needful means of bliss by thee suppressed. 'Tis thine alone endured with boundless might, To keep the keys of sorrow and delight.

O numinous, blessed father, hear my call, Disperse the seeds of life-consuming care; With favoring mind the sacred rites attend, And grant my days a glorious, blessed end.