Invoke, the Corybantic deity.
Thee Pappas now and now the dead,
Now lifting up reborn the god-like head.
Unfruitful now or barren desert brown,
Now the rich golden harvest mowing down.
Or whom the blossoming almond-tree
Brought forth on the free hills the piper wild to be.
Attis, old Rhea’s son I sing
Not with the wild bell’s clashing ring
Nor Ida’s fife, in whose shrill noise