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LXVII.

TO HEALTH.

The FUMIGATION from MANNA.

O Much-desir'd, prolific, gen'ral queen,
Hear me, life-bearing, Health, of beauteous mien,
Mother of all; by thee diseases dire,
Of bliss destructive, from our life retire;
And ev'ry house is flourishing and fair, 5
If with rejoicing aspect thou art there:
Each dædal art, thy vig'rous force inspires,
And all the world thy helping hand desires;
Pluto life's bane alone resists thy will,
And ever hates thy all-preserving skill. 10
O fertile queen, from thee forever flows
To mortal life from agony repose;
And men without thy all-sustaining ease,
Find nothing useful, nothing form'd to please;
Without thy aid, not Plutus' self can thrive, 15
Nor man to much afflicted age arrive;
For thou alone of countenance serene,
Dost govern all things, universal queen.
Assist thy mystics with propitious mind,
And far avert disease of ev'ry kind.


Next: LXVIII: To The Furies