Bki:X To Mercury

Mercury, eloquent grandson of Atlas, I’ll sing of you, who wise with your training, shaped the uncivilised ways of our new-born race, with language, and grace in the ways of wrestling, you the messenger of Jove and the gods, and the curved lyre’s father, skilful in hiding whatever pleases you, with playful deceit. While he tried to scare you, with his threatening voice, unless you returned the cattle you’d stolen, and so craftily, Apollo was laughing missing his quiver. And indeed, with your guidance, Priam carrying rich gifts left Troy, escaped the proud Atridae, Thessalian fires, and the menacing camp threatening Ilium. You bring virtuous souls to the happy shores, controlling the bodiless crowds with your wand of gold, pleasing to the gods of the heavens and the gods below.