Fair the service that I render to thee, Phoebus, before thy house, honouring thy seat of prophecy; a glorious task I count it, to serve not mortal man but deathless gods; wherefore I never weary of performing holy services. Phoebus is to me as the father that begot me, for as such I praise the god that gives me food. Whom I call by that helpful name of father, Tis Phoebus, who dwelleth in the temple, Hail Paean, healing god, good luck to thee and blessing, child of Latona! Ion My task is nearly done of sweeping with the laurel broom, so now from a golden ewer will I sprinkle o’er the ground water from Castalia’s gushing spring, scattering the liquid dew with hands from all defilement free. Oh may I never cease thus to serve Phoebus, or, if I do, may fortune smile upon me! Ha! they come, the feathered tribes, leaving their nests on Parnassus. I forbid ye to settle on the coping or enter the gilded dome. Thou herald of Zeus, that masterest the might of other birds with those talons of thine, once more shall my arrow o’ertake thee.