Hear me, Apollo, far-shooting lord of Delos,
Phoebus, radiant one, who walks in golden light,
master of the lyre and the healing arts,
prophet of Zeus, whose tripod speaks the fate of mortals.
You who drive the sun’s chariot across the vault of heaven,
who scatters plague or lifts it at your will,
leader of the Muses, keeper of the laurel and the bow.
Come, blessed one, with a kindly mind,
bring harmony to this house, and health,
and the clear sight to know what is true.
