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All things within the Wall that dwell,

All gods and men, that are or were;

All life from Pallas' citadel

Which draws its being, I am here:

These Dwellers in your gates adore,

And fear the tides of Life no more!

The prayers they have uttered o'er my land I praise;

And speed them on, 'mid many a torch's blaze,

To that most deep and subterranean end

Of wandering. Let these ministers, who tend

Mine image, follow; righteous warders they.

Let all the fulness of the land this day,

Children, and wives and women bent with years,

Come forth: do worship to these Wanderers

Accepted in their robes of crimson dye.

Let leap the flash of fire. This great Ally

Shall be revealed and proven in the fate

Of Athens, if her men be true and great.

Gather ye home; are ye great, do ye crave adoration,

O childless Children of Night in the pride of your going?

(Give good words, O Folk of the Fold!)

Aeonian caverns of glory are yours, and oblation

Of worship, and sacrifice high, and praise overflowing.

(Give good words, O young men and old!)