Thy wrath, O Venus, still forbear,
Nor at my tender bosom aim
That venom'd arrow, ever wont to inspire,
Wing'd from thy golden bow, the pangs of keen desire.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]

But, never from thy golden bow,
May I beneath the shaft expire!
Whose creeping venom, sure and slow,
Awakes an all-consuming fire:
Ye racking doubts! ye jealous fears!
With others wage internal war;
Repentance! source of future tears,
From me be ever distant far!
[tr. Byron (1807)]

Ne'er from thy golden bow, Queen of soft joy,
Steep'd in desire thy shafts 'gainst me employ!
[tr. Potter (1814)]

Oh never, queen, I pray,
Drive from thy golden bow into my heart
The escapeless passion-poisoned dart.
[tr. Webster (1868)]

Never, O never, lady mine, discharge at me from thy golden bow a shaft invincible, in passion’s venom dipped.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

Never, O my mistress, mayest thou send forth against me from thy golden bow thy inevitable shaft, having steeped it in desire.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

Not upon me, O Queen, do thou aim from thy bow all-golden
The arrow desire-envenomed that none may avoid -- not on me!
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

Loose not on me, O Holder of man's heart,
Thy golden quiver,
Nor steep in poison of desire the dart
That heals not ever.
[tr. Murray (1906)]

O goddess, never on me let loose the unerring
Shaft of your bow in the poison of desire.
[tr. Warner (1944)]

Never, Queen Aphrodite,
Loose against me from your golden bow,
Dipped in sweetness of desire,
Your inescapable arrow!
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]

Mistress, never use me as a target, shooting golden arrows
Tipped with desire, unerring in aim.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]

Never, o goddess, may you smear with desire one of your ineluctable arrows and let it fly against my heart from your golden bow!
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]

Oh never, my lady, may you fire at me from your golden bow the unerring arrow you have poisoned with desire!
[tr. Davie (1996)]

Oh, Lady Aphrodite!
I sincerely hope you don’t shoot any of your unfailing golden arrows, dipped in lust, at me!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

Goddess, I pray you never strike me
with one of those poisoned arrows
shot from your golden bow.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

Mistress, never shoot me from your golden bow an inescapable arrow anointed with desire.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]

Never, mistress, discharge at me from your golden bow a shaft inescapable, in passion’s venom dipped.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]

Never, o goddess, may you smear with desire one of your inescapable arrows and let it fly against my heart from your golden bow!
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]

Few men durst publish the secret petitions they make to God.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

There are few men who dared publish to the world the prayers they make to Almighty God.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

There are few men who would dare to exhibit openly the secret petitions which they make to God.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

There are few men who would dare place in evidence the secret requests they make of God.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

Not many men would care to submit to view the secret prayers they make to God.
[tr. Screech (1987)]

Either the Gods can do nothing for us at all, or they can still and allay all the distractions and distempers of thy mind. If they can do nothing, why doest thou pray? If they can, why wouldst not thou rather pray, that they will grant unto thee, that thou mayst neither fear, nor lust after any of those worldly things which cause these distractions and distempers of it? Why not rather, that thou mayst not at either their absence or presence, be grieved and discontented: than either that thou mayst obtain them, or that thou mayst avoid them? For certainly it must needs be, that if the Gods can help us in anything, they may in this kind also.
[tr. Casaubon (1634)]

Either the Gods have power to assist us, or they have not. If they have not, what does praying to them signifie? If they have, why don't you rather pray that they would Discharge your Desires, than Satisfie them; and rather set you above the Passion of Fear, than keep away the Thing you are afraid of? For if the Gods can help us, no doubt they can help us to be Wiser.
[tr. Collier (1701), 9.42]

Either the Gods have no power at all [to aid men in any thing;] or they have power. If, then, they have no power, why do you pray? But if they have power, why don’t you chuse to pray to them to enable you, neither to fear any of these things, [which are not in our own power] nor desire any of them, nor be grieved about any of them; rather than for the having them, or the not having them. For, most certainly, if they can aid men at all, they can also aid them in this.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]

Either the Gods have power to assist mankind, or they have not. If they have not, why do you pray to them? If they have that power, why do you not rather pray, "that they would enable you neither to fear nor to desire any thing; nor to be more grieved fro the want, than for the possession of it?" For, certainly, if they have the power to co-operate with the endeavours of men, they can do it in this respect.
[tr. Graves (1792)]

Either the gods have no power or they have power. If, then, they have no power, why dost thou pray to them? But if they have power, why dost thou not pray for them to give thee the faculty of not fearing any of the things which thou fearest, or of not desiring any of the things which thou desirest, or not being pained at anything, rather than pray that any of these things should not happen or happen? for certainly if they can co-operate with men, they can co-operate for these purposes.
[tr. Long (1862)]

Either the gods have power to assist us, or they have not. If they have not, what does praying to them help you? If they have, why do you not rather pray that they would remove your fears and moderate your desires, and rather keep you from grieving for any of these things, than keep away one thing and grant another? For if the gods can help us, no doubt they can help us to be wiser.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]

The gods either have power, or they have not. If they have not, why pray at all? If they have, why not pray for deliverance from teh fear, or the desire, or the pain, which the thing causes, rather than for the withholding or the giving of the particular thing? Assuredly, if they can help men at all, this is the way of help.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]

Either the Gods have power or they have none. If they have no power, why do you pray? If they have power, why do you not choose to pray to them for power neither to fear, nor to desire, nor to be grieved over any of these external things, rather than for their presence or their absence? Surely, if the Gods can aid man at all, they can aid him in this.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]

Either the Gods have no power or they have power. If they have no power, why pray to them? But if they have power, why not rather pray that they should give thee freedom from fear of any of these things and from lust for any of these things and from grief at any of these things [rather] than that they should grant this or refuse that. For obviously if they can assist men at all, they can assist them in this.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]

The gods are either powerless or powerful. If then they are powerless, why do you pray? But if they are powerful, why not rather pray them for the gift to fear none of these things, to desire none of them, to sorrow for none of them, rather than that any one of them should be present or absent? For surely if they can co-operate with man, they can co-operate to these ends.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

The gods either lack power or they have power. If they are powerless, why do you pray to them? But if they have power, why do you not pray to them to grant you the ability neither to fear any of these things nor to desire them, nor to be distressed by them, rather than praying that some of them should fall to you and others not? For surely, if the gods have any power to help human beings, they can help them in this.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.)]

Either the gods have power or they don't. If they don't, why pray? If they do, then why not pray for something else instead of for things to happen or not to happen? Pray not to feel fear. Or desire. Or grief. If they gods can do anything, they can surely do that for us.
[tr. Hays (2003)]

Either the gods have power or they do not. Now, if they have no power, why pray? If they do have power, why not pray for their gift of freedom from all worldly fear, desire, or regret, rather than for the presence or absence of this or that? Certainly, if the gods can cooperate with men, they can cooperate to these ends.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]

Either the gods have power or they do not. If they do not, why do you pray? But if they do have power, why aren't you praying that they give you the power not to fear, crave, or be troubled by a thing, rather than pryaing to have that thing or not have it? For if the gods can work with us, then surely they can work with us toward this end.
[tr. Needleman/Piazza (2008)]

The gods either lack power or they have power. Now if they are powerless, why do you pray to them? But if they have poer, why do you not pray to them to gran you the ability neither to fear any of these things nor to desire them, nor to be distressed by them, rather than praying that some of them should fall to you and others not? For surely, if the gods have any power to help human beings, they can help them in this.
[tr. Hard (2011 ed.)]

The covetous man sueth and praieth unto him for the vaine encrease and superfluous preservation of his wrong-gotten treasure. The ambitious, he importuneth God for the conduct of his fortune, and that he may have the victorie of all his desseignes. The theefe, the pirate, the murtherer, yea and the traitor, all call upon him, all implore his ayde, and all solicite him, to give them courage in their attempts, constancie in their resolutions, to remove all lets and difficulties, that in any sorte may withstand their wicked executions, and impious actions; or give him thanks, if they have had good successe; the one if he have met with a good bootie, the other if he returne home rich, the third if no man have seene him kill his enemie, and the last, though he have caused any execrable mischiefe. The Souldier, if he but go to besiege a cottage, to scale a Castle, to robbe a Church, to Pettard a gate, to force a religious house, or any villanous act, before he attempt-it, praieth to God for his assistance, though his intents and hopes be full-fraught with crueltie, murther, covetise, luxurie, sacriledge, and all iniquitie.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

The covetous man prays for the vain and superfluous preservation of his riches; the ambitious, for victory and the conduct of his fortune; the thief calls God to his assistance to deliver him from the dangers and difficulties that obstruct his wicked designs; or returns him thanks for the facility he has met with in cutting a traveller's throat. At the door of the house they are going to storm, or break into by force of a petard, they fall to prayers for success, having their intention and hopes full of cruelty, avarice, and luxury.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

The covetous man prays for the conservation of his vain and superfluous riches; the ambitious for victory and the good conduct of his fortune; the thief calls Him to his assistance, to deliver him from the dangers and difficulties that obstruct his wicked designs, or returns Him thanks for the facility he has met with in cutting a man’s throat; at the door of the house men are going to storm or break into by force of a petard, they fall to prayers for success, their intentions and hopes of cruelty, avarice, and lust.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

The avaricious man prays to him for the vain and superfluous of his riches; the ambitious man for his triumphs and the guidance of his passion; the thief employs him for aid in overcoming the risk and difficulties which impede the execution of his evil enterprises, or thanks him for the ease with which a traveler has had his throat cut. At the wall of the house they are about to scale or blow up, they say their prayers, their purpose and hope being full of cruelty, lust, greed.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

The miser prays to him for the vain and superfluous conservation of his treasures; the ambitious man, for his victories and the guidance of this passion; the thief uses his help to pass through the risks and difficulties that oppose the execution of his wicked enterprises, or thanks him for having found it easy to cut a passer-by's throat. Standing beside the house they are going to scale or blow up, they say their prayers, with their intention and hopes full of cruelty, lust, and avarice.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

I was even now considering, whence this generall errour commeth, that in all our desseignes and enterprises, of what nature soever, we immediately have recourse unto God, and in every necessitie, we call upon his holy name: And at what time soever wee stand in neede of any help, and that our weaknesse wanteth assistance, we onely invoke him, without considering whether the occasion be just or unjust; and what estate or action we be in, or go about, be it never so vicious or unlawfull, we call upon his name and power.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

It just now comes into my mind, from whence we should derive the error of having recourse to God in all our designs and enterprises, of applying to him in all our wants, and in all places where our weakness stands in need of support, without considering whether the occasion be just or otherwise, and of invoking his name and power, in what estate soever we are, or what action we are engaged in, how vicious soever.
[tr. Cotton (1686)]

It just now came into my mind, whence it is we should derive that error of having recourse to God in all our designs and enterprises, to call Him to our assistance in all sorts of affairs, and in all places where our weakness stands in need of support, without considering whether the occasion be just or otherwise; and to invoke His name and power, in what state soever we are, or action we are engaged in, howsoever vicious.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

I was reflecting just now on whence comes this error of ours of having recourse to God in all our schemes and undertakings, and of calling upon him in every sort of necessity and in whatsoever place our weakness desires aid, without considering whether the occasion be responsible or unreasonable; and of invoking his name and his power, whatever condition and action we may be in, vicious though it may be.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

I was just now thinking about where that error of ours comes from, of having recourse to God in all our designs and enterprises, and calling on him in every kind of need and in whatever spot our weakness wants help, without considering whether the occasion is just or unjust, and invoking his name and his power, in whatever condition or action we are involved, however vicious it may be.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till paths be wrought through wilds of thought
By pilgrim foot and knee!

I allwuss think that it is good taste, and pretty good religion too, when a man prays for the sins ov the people, to count himself in.

[I always think that it is good taste, and pretty good religion, too, when a man prays for the sins of the people, to count himself in.]

I always did think that it was good taste and pretty good religion too, when a man prayed for the SINS of other folks, to include himself also.

Our Father which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done
in earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil:
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever. Amen.
[KJV (1611)]

Our Father in heaven,
may your name be held holy,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debs,
as we have forgiven those who are in debt to us.
And do not put us to the test,
but save us from the evil one.
[JB (1966)]

Our Father in heaven:
May your holy name be honored;
may your Kingdom come;
may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today the food we need.
Forgive us the wrongs we have done,
as we forgive the wrongs that others have done to us.
Do not bring us to hard testing,
but keep us safe from the Evil One.
[GNT (1976)]

Our Father in heaven,
may your name be held holy,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we have forgiven those who are in debt to us.
And do not put us to the test,
but save us from the Evil One.
[NJB (1985)]

Our Father who is in heaven,
uphold the holiness of your name.
Bring in your kingdom
so that your will is done on earth as it’s done in heaven.
Give us the bread we need for today.
Forgive us for the ways we have wronged you,
just as we also forgive those who have wronged us.
And don’t lead us into temptation,
but rescue us from the evil one.
[CEB (2011)]

Our Father in heaven,
may your name be honored.
May your kingdom come.
May what you want to happen be done
on earth as it is done in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins,
just as we also have forgiven those who sin against us.
Keep us from sinning when we are tempted.
Save us from the evil one.
[NIV (2011 ed.)]

Our Father in heaven,
may your name be revered as holy.
May your kingdom come.
May your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And do not bring us to the time of trial,
but rescue us from the evil one.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

• On "daily bread," JB/NJB notes the Greek word here is "obscure," and may mean "necessary for subsistence" or "for tomorrow." NRSV and GNT similarly note an alternative, "Give us today our bread for tomorrow."
• NRSV notes an alternative translation, "And do not bring us into testing ..."
• JB/NJB and NRSV notes a final line alternative translation: "... but rescue us from evil."
• The JB/NJB footnotes Matthew's recurring use of the number 7, here including seven petitions.

For yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory for ever. Amen.
[JB/NJB]
 
For the kingdom and the power and the glory are yours forever. Amen.
[NRSV]
 
For yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen.
[GNT]

But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.
[KJV (1611)]

In your prayers do not babble as the pagans do, for they think that by using many words they will make themselves heard. Do not be like them; your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
[JB (1966)]

When you pray, do not use a lot of meaningless words, as the pagans do, who think that their gods will hear them because their prayers are long. Do not be like them. Your Father already knows what you need before you ask him.
[GNT (1976)]

When you pray, don’t pour out a flood of empty words, as the Gentiles do. They think that by saying many words they’ll be heard. Don’t be like them, because your Father knows what you need before you ask.
[CEB (2011)]

When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
[NRSV (2021 ed.)]

Apollo graunt, enjoy health I may
That I have got, and with sound minde, I pray:
Nor that I may with shame spend my old yeares,
Nor wanting musike to delight mine eares.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

Latona's Son,
In Minde and Bodies health my own
T' enjoy; old Age from dotage free,
And solac'd with the Lute, give me.
[tr. Fanshaw; ed. Brome (1666)]

O (great Apollo) grant
To me in health, and free from life's annoy,
Things native, and soon gotten to enjoy;
And with a mind compos'd old Age attain,
Not loathsome, nor depriv'd of Lyrick strain.
[tr. "Sir T. H."; ed. Brome (1666)]

A Mind to use my present Store
With Health and Life, but not so long
As brings Contempt, or cramps my Song;
Grant this Apollo, and I ask no more.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

O thou son of Latona, grant me to enjoy my acquisitions, and to possess my health, together with an unimpaired understanding, I beseech thee; and that I may not lead a dishonorable old age, nor one bereft of the lyre.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

O grant me, Phoebus, calm content,
Strength unimpairEd, a mind entire,
Old age without dishonour spent,
Nor unbefriended by the lyre!
[tr. Conington (1872)]

And health
Give thou, Latoë, so I might
Enjoy my present wealth!
Give me but these, I ask no more,
These, and a mind entire --
And old age, not unhonour'd, nor
Unsolaced by the lyre!
[tr. Martin (1864)]

Give me health in myself to enjoy the things granted,
O thou son of Latona; sound mind in sound body;
Keep mine age free from all that degrades,
And let it not fail of the lyre.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]

Grant it to me, Apollo, that I may enjoy what I have in good health; let me be sound in body and mind; let me live in honor when old, nor let music be wanting.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

Grant it to me, Apollo, that I may enjoy my possessions in good health; let me be sound in mind; let me not lead a dishonourable old age, nor want the cittern.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877), alternate]

Son of Latona, grant me, I pray, to enjoy in health of body and soundness of mind what I possess, and let my old age be honourable and rendered happy by the charms of music.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

Give me then health, Apollo; give
Sound mind; on gotten goods to live
Contented; and let song engage
An honoured, not a base, old age.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]

Health to enjoy the blessings thou givest me,
Grant me, Latoe, with a sound mind, I pray;
Nor let my age be e'er unhonour'd.
Nor unattended with lyric measures.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]

Grant me in health to relish what I have
In store, Latona's son, with mind I pray,
Unclouded -- and to pass an eld
Not base, nor of my harp deprived.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]

Grant, god, that with my lot
I live content, hale, and still fresh my gift, --
Grant that in age I may not drift
Long years, my lyre forgot.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]

Grant me, O Latona’s son, to be content with what I have, and, sound of body and of mind, to pass an old age lacking neither honour nor the lyre!
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]

Grant me, Apollo, for the rest,
Contentment, health, sound wits and bright,
An honoured eld, by music blest.
[tr. Mills (1924)]

Grant, I pray, son of Latona, that I enjoy full health, and with mind uunimpaired, the goods that have been prepared for me; and that my old age be not unhonoured, nor lack the lyre.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

Grant me, Latona's son, but health,
Grant me a mind entire,
Contentment and a dignified old age,
Not lacking in the sweetness of the lyre.
[tr. Zeitlin (1934)]

Grant me but health, Latona's son,
And to enjoy the wealth I've won,
And honored age, with mind entire
And not unsolaced by the lyre.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

Delight had I healthily in what lay handy provided.
Grant me now, Latoe:
full wit in my cleanly age,
Nor lyre lack me, to tune the page.
[tr. Pound (c. 1955)]

Grant me, Apollo, that I may enjoy with healthy body and sound mind the goods that have been prepared for me, and that my old age be honourable and no stranger to the lyre.
[tr. Cohen (1958)]

Here's what I crave most, son of Latona, then:
Good health, a sound mind, relish of life, and an
Old age that still maintains a stylish
Grip on itself and the lyric metres.
[tr. Michie (1963)]

Vouchsafe, O Son of Latona, that I may enjoy those things I have prepared; and, with my mind instact I pray, may I not degenerate into a squalid senility, in which the lyre is wanting.
[tr. Screech (1987)]

Apollo grant that I be satisfied
With what I have as what I ought to have,
And that I live my old age out with honor,
In health of mind and body, doing my work.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]

Grant me, O son of Latona, I pray
that I take joy in what I have
Sound in mind and body entire
and my old age lacking neither honor nor lyre.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

Apollo, the son
of Latona, let me enjoy what I have,
and, healthy in body and mind, as I ask,
live an old age not without honour,
and one not lacking the art of the lyre.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

WOLSEY: That thing out there; at least she's fertile.
MORE: But she's not his wife.
WOLSEY: No, Catherine's his wife and she's barren as a brick; are you going to pray for a miracle?
MORE: There are precedents.

And you, Eumenides, with snaky hair,
Who for men's crimes due chastisements prepare;
Whose inward rage sits pictur'd on your brows;
O, hither come, and listen to my woes!
Woes pour'd in torture from my inmost soul,
Where burning phrenzy, and wild tumult roll!
Rack'd is this breast with no fictitious pain;
Then hear my pray'r, just maids, nor hear in vain!
And grant that Theseus, and his race may share
Such fate accurst, as now I'm doom'd to bear!
[tr. Nott (1795)]

Ye, who avenge their crimes on all mankind,
Furies, whose hair with angry snakes entwined
Paint on the threatening brow the hell-born breast,
Haste, hither haste, and hear my fell request.
'Tis helpless frenzy, senseless, blind despair;
Teach me, 'tis all that's left, my frantic prayer;
Rend from my secret heart each cold restraint,
And pour forth all my soul in my complaint.
Since then it warmly flows from heartfelt pain,
Let me not speak my rage, my grief in vain;
But grant, that still the reckless, ruthless mind
Which made him fly, and leave a wretch behind,
May guide, may urge his life with headlong pace,
Till Theseus curse alike himself and all his race
[tr. Lamb (1821)]

Come ye that wreak on man his guilt with retribution dire,
Ye maids, whose snake-wreathed brows bespeak your bosoms' vengeful ire!
Come ye , and hearken to the curse which I, of sense forlorn,
Hurl from the ruins of a heart with mighty anguish torn!
Though there be fury in my words, and madness in my brain,
Let not my cry of woe and wrong assail your ears in vain!
Urge the false heart that left me here still on with head long chase
From ill to worse, till Theseus curse himself and all his race!
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]

Ye powers ! who to the crimes of men dire chastisement assign;
Eumenides! around whose heads the snaky ringlets twine;
Whose brows portray the hellish wrath that rankles in your breast;
Oh! hither, hither haste, and list to this the sad request
Which from my inmost soul, alas! to misery consigned,
I'm forced to pour -- a helpless wretch, with burning madness blind;
And since even from my bosom's depths these bursts of anguish stream,
Oh, doom them not to vanish like an airy, idle dream,
But let him in that soul, in which he has abandon'd me,
Bring on himself and all his race death and black infamy.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]

Then, O sworn to requite man's evil wrathfully, Powers
Gracious, on whose grim brows, with viper tresses inorbed,
Looks red-breathing forth your bosom's feverous anger;
Now, yea now come surely, to these loud miseries harken,
All I cry, the afflicted, of inmost marrow arising,
Desolate, hot with pain, with blinding fury bewilder'd.
Yet, for of heart they spring, grief's children truly begotten,
Verily, Gods, these moans you will not idly to perish.
But with counsel of evil as he forsook me deceiving,
Death to his house, to his heart, bring also counsel of evil.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]

Therefore, O you who 'venge man's deed with penalties direful,
Eumenides! aye wont to bind with viperous hairlocks
Foreheads, -- Oh, deign outspeak fierce wrath from bosom outbreathing,
Hither, Oh hither, speed, and lend you all ear to my grievance,
Which now sad I (alas!) outpour from innermost vitals
Maugre my will, sans help, blind, fired with furious madness.
And, as indeed all spring from veriest core of my bosom,
Suffer you not the cause of grief and woe to evanish;
But with the Will wherewith could Theseus leave me in loneness,
Goddesses! bid that Will lead him, lead his, to destruction.
[tr. Burton (1893)]

Wherefore you requiters of men's deeds with avenging pains, O Eumenides, whose front enwreathed with serpent-locks blazons the wrath exhaled from your bosom, come here, here, listen to my complaint, which I, sad wretch, am urged to outpour from my innermost marrow, helpless, burning, and blind with frenzied fury. And since in truth they spring from the very depths of my heart, be unwilling to allow my agony to pass unheeded, but with such mind as Theseus forsook me, with like mind, O goddesses, may he bring evil on himself and on his kin.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]

Therefore , O ye that visit the deeds of men with vengeful pains, ye Eumenides, whose foreheads bound with snaky hair bear on their front the wrath which breathes from your breast, hither, hither haste, hear my complaints which I ( ah , unhappy!) utter from my inmost heart perforce, helpless, burning, blinded with raging frenzy. For since my woes come truthfully from the depths of my heart, suffer not ye my grief to come to nothing but even as Theseus left me desolate, so, goddesses, may he bring ruin on himself and his own!
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]

Wherefore, ye Furies, ye who on men's sin
Due punishment inflict, whose very hair
In viper's form reveals the rage within,
Hither in judgment come and hear my prayer;
The only outlet for my helpless wrath,
As blind with rage I burn and pour it forth.
And as I launch my curses from my soul,
I charge you guard them till they reach their goal;
God grant the shallow heart that left me here
Bring death on those that Theseus holds most dear.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]

Ye, then, who vindicate their deeds of shame
On guilty men; whose vengeance-breathing breast
Speaks in the snaky hair, the withering flame:
Come, Furies, come! Give ear to the request
An injured woman makes, with maddening woe oppressed.
Since forced by sad misfortune I complain;
Since deep and true the sorrows that I bear;
Ah, let not my petition be in vain!
Let the vile author of my misery share
As sad a fate, as gloomy a despair,
As brought his cruel deed on wretched me!
[tr. Wright (1926)]

Hear me gods whose antiquity flows backward beyond the time of man, whose vengeance falls on all, O wake again
with snakes circling your foreheads and now releasing rivers of blood pouring from sightless eyes,
make these the signals of the anger (red coals in your breasts) that brings you out of the forgotten
womb of time. Hear what I say, look at my heart, wrapped round with flames, my soul in madness, O remember
these last words spoken from my heart, O gods! And as Theseus has now forgotten me, make him a stranger
to his own soul, so that the architecture of his mind falls to ruin.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]

O Furies, charged with vengeance that punishes evil,
you whose bleak foreheads are girded with writhing serpents
which clearly display the outrage yo7ur cold hearts keep hidden,
come here to me quickly, listen to my lamentation,
which I deliver in pain from the depths of my passion,
unwilling forced to, afire, blinded with madness!
-- Since what I say is the truth, since I say it sincerely,
do not allow my lament to fade with out issue:
but just as Theseus carelessly left me to die here,
may that same carelessness ruin him and his dearest!
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]

Therefore, you that punish with avenging price men's crimes,
Furies, Eumenides, whose brows, bound with serpents for tresses,
announce the rages of your panting chests,
Be here! Be here! Respond to my complaints
which I -- pitiful I -- am forced to bring out from my very bones,
helpless, burning, blind with mindless rage.
Since those are true-born from my deepest heart,
do not allow my suffering to gutter out.
Goddesses, may the same intent that left me behind, alone,
defile Theseus himself and his own with death.
[tr. Banks (1997)]

So you Eumenides who punish by avenging
the crimes of men, your foreheads crowned
with snaky hair, bearing anger in your breath,
here, here, come to me, listen to my complaints,
that I, wretched alas, force, weakened, burning,
out of the marrow of my bones, blind with mad rage.
Since these truths are born in the depths of my breast,
you won’t allow my lament to pass you by,
but as Theseus left me alone, through his intent,
goddesses, by that will, pursue him and his with murder.
[tr. Kline (2001)]

So, you whose vengeful exactions answer men's crimes, you Furies whose snake-wreathed brows announce the wrath gusting up from your secret hearts, I summon you here to me now: give ear to the complaints which I in my misery am forced to dredge up from the inmost core of my being -- helpless, burning, blinded by mindless frenzy. But since they're the true products of my private heart, don't let my grief all go for nothing; rather in just such a mood as Theseus abandoned me to my lonely fate, let him, goddesses, now doom both himnself and his!
[tr. Green (2005)]

Wherefore, Eumenides, punishing the deeds of men with avenging penalty,
to whom the forehead having been encircled with snaky hair
carries forth angers breathing out of the chest,
here come here, hear my complaints,
which I , alas wretched, have been compelled to bring forth
from the bottom marrows helpless, burning, blind with crazy fury.
Since such things are being born from the deepest chest,
you don't suffer our grief to wane,
but with what type of mind Theseus left me alone,
let him pollute both himself and his own with death, goddesses
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]

Ah Posthumus! the years of man
Slide on with winged pace, nor can
Vertue reprieve her friend
From wrinkles, age, and end.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Time (Posthumus) goes with full sail,
Nor can thy honest heart avail
A furrow'd brow, old age at hand,
Or Death unconquer'd to withstand:
One long night,
Shall hide this light
From all our sight,
And equal Death
Shall few dayes hence,
stop every breath.
[tr. S. W.; ed. Brome (1666)]

The whirling year, Ah Friend! the whirling year Rouls on apace;
And soon shall wrinkles plough thy wither'd Face:
In vain you wast your Pious breath,
No prayers can stay, no vows defer
The swift approach of Age, and conqu'ring Death.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

Alas! my Postumus, my Postumus, the fleeting years glide on; nor will piety cause any delay to wrinkles, and advancing old age, and insuperable death.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Ah, Posthumus, the years, the fleeting years
Still onwards, onwards glide;
Nor mortal virtue may
Time's wrinkling fingers stay,
Nor Age's sure advance, nor Death's all-conquering stride.
[tr. Martin (1864)]

Postumus, Postumus, the years glide by us,
Alas! no piety delays the wrinkles,
Nor old age imminent,
Nor the indomitable hand of Death.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]

Ah! Postumus! Devotion fails
The lapse of gliding years to stay,
With wrinkled age it nought avails
Nor conjures conquering Death away.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]

Ah me! how quickly, Postumus, Postumus,
Glide by the years! nor even can piety
Delay the wrinkles, and advancing
Age, and attacks of unconquer'd Hades.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]

Alas! Postumus, Postumus, the fleeing years
Slip by, and duteousness does not give pause
To wrinkles, or to hasting age,
Or death unconquerable.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]

Ah! Postumus, Postumus, fast fly the years,
And prayers to wrinkles and impending age
Bring not delay; nor shalt assuage
Death's stroke with pious tears.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]

Alas, O Postumus, Postumus, the years glide swiftly by, nor will righteousness give pause to wrinkles, to advancing age, or Death invincible.
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]

Ah, Postumus, my Postumus, the fleeting years roll by;
Wrinkles and ever nearing eld stay not for piety:
Relentless they, relentless death's unconquered tyranny.
[tr. Mills (1924)]

Ah, how they glide by, Postumus, Postumus,
The years, the swift years! Wrinkles and imminent
Old age and death, whom no one conquers --
Piety cannot delay their onward
March.
[tr. Michie (1963)]

Oh year by year, Póstumay,
Póstumay, time slips by,
And holiness can't stop us drying,
Or hold off death.
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

How the years go by, alas how the years go by.
Behaving well can do nothing at all about it.
Wrinkles will come, old age will come, and death,
Indomitable. Nothing at all will work.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]

Alas! O Postumus, Postumus! Swiftly the years glide by, and no amount of piety will wrinkles delay or halt approaching age or ineluctable death.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

Oh how the years fly, Postumus, Postumus,
they’re slipping away, virtue brings no respite
from the wrinkles that furrow our brow,
impending old age, Death the invincible.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

A single grateful thought toward heaven is the most perfect prayer.
[Source (1884)]

I know too of small cities doing honour to the gods which are subject to larger, more impious ones, because they are overcome by a more numerous army.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]

I see minor states that honor gods subject to greater ones that revere none, for ‘might is right’.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]

I know small cities honouring the gods that obey larger and more impious ones since they are outnumbered in spearmen.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]

I know that small cities honor the gods,
Cities that obey stronger more impious men
Because they are overpowered by the strength of their arms.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]

I know of small cities where the gods are honored: yet these same cities are forced to comply with the demands of impious men in larger cities, overpowered by the sheer magnitude of their armament.
[tr. Emerson]

Swaines pray for winters faire, and summers wet.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Ye Swains, invoke the Pow'rs who rule the Sky,
For a moist Summer, and a Winter dry.
[tr. Dryden (1709), ll. 146-147]

Ye husbandmen! intreat the gods by pray'r
For wat'ry solstices, and winters fair.
[tr. Nevile (1767)]

Swains! pray for wintry dust, and summer rain.
[tr. Sotheby (1800)]

Pray, ye swains, for moist summers and serene winters.
[tr. Davidson (1854)]

For winters dry, and showery summers, pray.
[tr. Blackmore (1871), l. 116]

Pray for showery summers and dry winters, husbandmen.
[tr. Wilkins (1873)]

Pray for wet summers and for winters fine,
Ye husbandmen.
[tr. Rhoades (1881)]

Now pay thy vows: be this the ploughman’s prayer:
Bright be the winter day, and moist the summer air.
[tr. King (1882), ll. 99-100]

Pray, ye swains, for moist summers and serene winters.
[tr. Bryce (1897)]

Pray for dripping midsummers and clear winters, O husbandmen.
[tr. Mackail (1899)]

Pray for wet summers and for winters fine,
Ye husbandmen.
[tr. Greenough (1900)]

For drizzling summers and sunny winters, husbandmen, pray.
[tr. Way (1912)]

For summers moist and windless winters fair
Pray heaven, ye farmer-folk.
[tr. Williams (1915)]

For moist summers and sunny winters, pray, farmers!
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1916)]

Wet midsummers and fair winters are what the farmer
Should ask for.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1940)]

Pray for wet midsummers, farmer friends,
And clear, cold winter skies.
[tr. Bovie (1956)]

Wet skies in midsummer and clear in winter
Farmers should pray for.
[tr. Wilkinson (1982)]

Farmers, pray for moist summers and mild winters.
[tr. Kline (2001)]

Farmers pray for wet summers and winters with clear blue skies.
[tr. Lembke (2004)]

The countryman should pray for wet summers and mild winters.
[tr. Fallon (2006)]

For humid summers and winters mild, pray, O farmers.
[tr. Johnson (2009)]

O farmers, pray that your summers be wet and your winters clear.
[Bartlett's]

In former times the English plays used to finish with a petition for the King. The old Indian dramas close with these words: "May all living beings be delivered from pain." Tastes differ; but in my opinion there is no more beautiful prayer than this.
[tr. Bullock (1903)]

Desist to hope that fates will heare thy prayer
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Cease to hope that the decrees of the gods are to be altered by prayers.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Cease to hope
By prayers to bend the destinies divine.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]

Cease to hope prayers may bend the decrees of heaven.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

Hope not the Fates of very God to change by any prayer.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

Hope not by prayer to bend the Fates' decree.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 51, l. 454]

Hope not by prayer to change the laws of Heaven!
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Cease to dream that heaven's decrees may be turned aside by prayer.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

Give up the hope
That fate is changed by praying.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

Give up this hope that the course of fate can be swerved by prayer.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]

Leave any hope that prayer can turn aside
the gods' decrees.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), ll. 495-96]

Abandon hope by prayer to make the gods
Change their decrees.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), ll. 506-7]

You must cease to hope that the Fates of the gods can be altered by prayers.
[tr. West (1990)]

Cease to hope that divine fate can be tempered by prayer.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Stop hoping that the gods' decrees
Can be bent with prayer.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

Hope no more
the gods’ decrees can be brushed aside by prayer,
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 428-29]

As if the gods' fates could be bent by prayer.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

You Gods who souls command, and silent ghosts,
Phlegeton, Chaos, nights vast dismall coasts.
Grant I declare things heard, by your aid shew
What earth and darknesse long hath hid below.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

Ye realms, yet unrevealed to human sight,
Ye gods who rule the regions of the night,
Ye gliding ghosts, permit me to relate
The mystic wonders of your silent state!
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Ye gods, to whom the empire of ghosts belong, and ye silent shades, and Chaos, and Phlegethon, places where silence reigns around in night! permit me to utter the secrets heard; may I by your divine will disclose things buried in deep earth and darkness.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Eternal Powers, whose sway controls
The empire of departed souls,
Ye too, throughout whose wide domain
Blank Night and grisly Silence reign,
Hoar Chaos, awful Phlegethon,
What ear has heard let tongue make known:
Vouchsafe your sanction, nor forbid
To utter things in darkness hid.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Ye deities, whose empire is of souls!
Ye silent Shades, -- Chaos and Phlegethon!
Ye wide dumb spaces stretching through the night!
Be it lawful that I speak what I have heard,
And by your will divine unfold the things
Buried in gloomy depths of deepest earth!
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 325ff]

Gods who are sovereign over souls! silent ghosts, and Chaos and Phlegethon, the wide dumb realm of night! as I have heard, so let me tell, and according to your will unfold things sunken deep under earth in gloom.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

O Gods, who rule the ghosts of men, O silent shades of death,
Chaos and Phlegethon, hushed lands that lie beneath the night!
Let me speak now, for I have heard: O aid me with your might
To open things deep sunk in earth, and mid the darkness blent.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

O silent Shades, and ye, the powers of Hell,
Chaos and Phlegethon, wide realms of night,
What ear hath heard, permit the tongue to tell,
High matter, veiled in darkness, to indite.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 37, l. 325ff]

Ye gods! who rule the spirits of the dead!
Ye voiceless shades and silent lands of night!
O Phlegethon! O Chaos! let my song,
If it be lawful, in fit words declare
What I have heard; and by your help divine
Unfold what hidden things enshrouded lie
In that dark underworld of sightless gloom.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Ye gods, who hold the domain of spirits! You voiceless shades! Thou, Chaos, and thou, Phlegethon, ye broad, silent tracts of night! Suffer me to tell what I have heard; suffer me of your grace to unfold secrets buried in the depths and darkness of the earth!
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

Gods of the world of spirit, silent shadows,
Chaos and Phlegethon, areas of silence,
Wide realms of dark, may it be right and proper
To tell what I have heard, this revelation
Of matters buried deep in earth and darkness!
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

Chaos, and Phlegethon! O mute wide leagues of Nightland! --
Grant me to tell what I have heard! With your assent
May I reveal what lies deep in the gloomof the Underworld!
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]

Gods who rule the ghosts; all silent shades;
And Chaos and infernal Fiery Stream,
And regions of wide night without a sound,
May it be right to tell what I have heard,
May it be right, and fitting, by your will,
That I describe the deep world sunk in darkness
Under the earth.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 363ff]

You gods who rule the world of the spirits, you silent shades, and Chaos, and Phlegethon, you dark and silent wastes, let it be right for me to tell what I have been told, let it be with your divine blessing that I reveal what is hidden deep in the mists beneath the earth.
[tr. West (1990)]

You gods, whose is the realm of spirits, and you, dumb shadows,
and Chaos, Phlegethon, wide silent places of the night,
let me tell what I have heard: by your power, let me
reveal things buried in the deep earth, and the darkness.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Gods of the world below, silent shades,
Chaos and Phlegethon, soundless tracts of Night --
Grant me the grace to tell what I have heard,
And lay bare the mysteries in the earth's abyss.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

You gods
who govern the realm of ghosts, you voiceless shades and Chaos --
you, the River of Fire, you far-flung regions hushed in night --
lend me the right to tell what I have heard, lend your power
to reveal the world immersed in the misty depths of earth.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 302ff]

O gods who govern souls, O silent shades, Chaos, Phlegethon, and mute expanses of the night, let it be right to tell what I have heard, let me show what's buried deep in earth and darkness.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

Or fly'st thou me? by these tears, this right hand,
(Since nothing else remains to woefull me)
Our marriage, our prepar'd solemnity.
If I have well deserv'd, or ought was mine,
Pity a falling house, change this designe
If prayers have power.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

See whom you fly! am I the foe you shun?
Now, by those holy vows, so late begun,
By this right hand, (since I have nothing more
To challenge, but the faith you gave before;)
I beg you by these tears too truly shed,
By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed;
If ever Dido, when you most were kind,
Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind;
By these my pray'rs, if pray'rs may yet have place,
Pity the fortunes of a falling race.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Wilt thou fly from me? By these tears, by that right hand, (since I have left nothing else to myself now, a wretch forlorn,) by our nuptial rights, by our conjugal loves begun; if I have deserved any thanks at they hand, or if ever you saw any charms in me, take pity, I implore thee, on a falling race, and, if yet there is any room for prayers, lay aside your resolution.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

From me you fly! Ah! let me crave,
By these poor tears, that hand you gave --
Since, parting with my woman's pride,
My madness leaves me nought beside --
By that our wedlock, by the rite
Which, but begun, could yet unite,
If e'er my kindness held you bound,
If e'er in me your joy you found,
Look on this falling house, and still,
If prayer can touch you, change your will.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Fly'st thou from me?
Ah, by these tears, and by this hand of thine
(Since to me, wretched, nothing else is left).
By our marriage tie, our nuptial rites begun.
If any favor I deserved of thee,
Or if in anything I have been sweet
And dear to thee, pity this falling house!
I do beseech thee, if there yet be room
For entreaty, change, ah, change that fixed intent!
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 406ff]

Fliest thou from me? me who by these tears and thine own hand beseech thee, since naught else, alas! have I kept mine own—by our union and the marriage rites preparing; if I have done thee any grace, or aught of mine hath once been sweet in thy sight,—pity our sinking house, and if there yet be room for prayers, put off this purpose of thine.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

Yea, me thou fleest. O by these tears, by that right hand of thine,
Since I myself have left myself unhappy nought but this,
And by our bridal of that day and early wedding bliss,
If ever I were worthy thanks, if sweet in aught I were,
Pity a falling house! If yet be left a space for prayer,
O then I pray thee put away this mind of evil things!
[tr. Morris (1900)]

"Me dost thou fly? O, by these tears, thy hand
Late pledged, since madness leaves me naught beside,
By lovers' vows and wedlock's sacred band,
Scarce knit and now too soon to be untied;
If aught were pleasing in a new-won bride,
If sweet the memory of our marriage day,
O by these prayers -- if place for prayer abide --
In mercy put that cruel mind away.
Pity a falling house, now hastening to decay.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 40, l. 352ff]

Is it from me
thou takest flight? O, by these flowing tears,
by thine own plighted word (for nothing more
my weakness left to miserable me),
by our poor marriage of imperfect vow,
if aught to me thou owest, if aught in me
ever have pleased thee -- O, be merciful
to my low-fallen fortunes! I implore,
if place be left for prayer, thy purpose change!
[tr. Williams (1910)]

From me dost thou flee? By these tears and thy right hand, I pray thee -- since naught else, alas! have I left myself -- by our marriage, by the wedlock begun, if ever I deserved well of thee, or if aught of mine has been sweet in thy sight, pity a falling house, and if yet there be any room for prayers, put away this purpose of thine.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

I am the one you flee from: true? I beg you
By my own tears, and your right hand -- (I have nothing
Else left my wretchedness) -- by the beginnings
Of marriage, wedlock, what we had, if ever
I served you well, if anything of mine
Was ever sweet to you, I beg you, pity
A falling house; if there is room for pleading
As late as this, I plead, put off that purpose.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

Am I your reason for going? By these tears, by the hand you gave me --
They are all I have left, today, in my misery -- I implore you,
And by our union of hearts, by our marriage hardly begun,
If I have ever helped you at all, if anything
About me pleased you, be sad for our broken home, forgo
Your purpose, I beg you, unless it's too late for prayers of mine!
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

Do you flee me? By tears, by your right hand --
This sorry self is left with nothing else --
by wedding, by the marriage we began,
if I did anything deserving of you
or anything of mine was sweet to you,
take pity on a fallen house, put off
your plan, I pray -- if there is still place for prayers.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 422ff]

Do you go to get away from me? I beg you,
By these tears, by your own right hand, since I
Have left my wretched self nothing but that --
Yes, by the marriage that we entered on,
If ever I did well and you were grateful
Or found some sweetness in a gift from me,
Have pity now on a declining house!
Put this plan by, I beg you, if a prayer
Is not yet out of place.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 429ff]

Is it me you are running away from? I beg you, by these tears, by the pledge you gave me with your own right hand -- I hav enothing else left me now in my misery -- I beg you by our union, by the marriage we have begun -- if I have deserved any kindness from you, if you have ever loved anything about me, pity my house that is falling around me, and I implore you, if it is not too late for prayers, give up this plan of yours.
[tr. West (1990)]

Is it me you run from? I beg you, by these tears, by your own
right hand (since I’ve left myself no other recourse in my misery),
by our union, by the marriage we have begun,
if ever I deserved well of you, or anything of me
was sweet to you, pity this ruined house, and if
there is any room left for prayer, change your mind.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Is it me you are fleeing?
By these tears, I beg you, by your right hand,
Which is all I have left, by your wedding vows,
Still so fresh -- if I have ever done anything
To deserve your thanks, if there is anything in me
That you found sweet, pity a house destined to fall,
And if there is still room for prayers, I beg you,
Please change your mind.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

Is it me you run from?
By my tears and your promise
(nothing else is left me in my grief),
by our wedding, by the marriage we've begun,
if I deserve anything from you, if you found me
at all pleasing, pity my poor home, I beg,
if there's still time to beg.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

Ah ignorant Priests, what availes temples, pray'r,
To ease th'inrag'd! whilst soft fire wastes her veins,
And in her breast, a silent wound remaines.
Unhappy Dido burnes ....
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

What priestly rites, alas! what pious art,
What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart!
A gentle fire she feeds within her veins,
Where the soft god secure in silence reigns.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Alas, how ignorant the minds of seers! what can prayers, what can temples, avail a raging lover? The gentle flame preys all the while upon her vitals and the secret wound rankles in her breast. Unhappy dido burns ....
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Alas! but seers are blind to day:
Can vows, can sacrifice allay
     A frantic lover's smart?
The very marrow of her frame
Is turning all the while to flame,
     The wound is at her heart.
Unhappy Dido! all ablaze ....
[tr. Conington (1866)]

Alas, the ignorance
Of all prophetic lore! What vows, what shrines
Can help her raging love? The soft flame burns,
Meanwhile, the marrow of her life; the wound
Lives silently, and rankles 'neath her breast.
The unhappy Dido [...] with burning bosom ....
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 85ff]

Ah, witless souls of soothsayers! how may vows or shrines help her madness? all the while the subtle flame consumes her inly, and deep in her breast the wound is silent and alive.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

Woe's me! the idle mind of priests! what prayer, what shrine avails
The wild with love!—and all the while the smooth flame never fails
To eat her heart: the silent wound lives on within her breast:
Unhappy Dido burneth up ....
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 65ff]

Blind seers, alas! what art
To calm her frenzy, now hath vow or shrine?
Deep in her marrow feeds the tender smart,
Unseen, the silent wound is festering in her heart.
Poor Dido burns ....
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 9-10; l. 71ff]

How blind the hearts of prophets be! Alas!
Of what avail be temples and fond prayers
to change a frenzied mind? Devouring ever,
love's fire burns inward to her bones; she feels
quick in her breast the viewless, voiceless wound.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Ah, blind souls of seers! Of what avail are vows or shrines to one wild with love? All the while the flame devours her tender heart-strings, and deep in her breast lives the silent wound. Unhappy Dido burns ....
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]

Alas, poor blind interpreters! What woman
In love is helped by offerings or altars?
Soft fire consumes the marrow-bones, the silent
Wound grows, deep in the heart.
Unhappy Dido burns ....
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

Ah, little the soothsayers know! What value have vows or shrines
For a woman wild with passion, the while love's flame eats into
Her gentle flesh and love's wound works silently in her breast?
So burns the ill-starred Dido ....
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

But oh the ignorance of the augurs! How
can vows and altars help one wild with love?
Meanwhile the supple flame devours her marrow;
within her breast the silent wound lives on.
Unhappy Dido burns ....
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 86ff]

Alas, what darkened minds have soothsayers!
What good are shrines and vows to maddened lovers?
The inward fire eats the soft marrow away,
And the internal wound bleeds on in silence.
Unlucky Dido, burning ...
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 91ff]

But priests, as we know, are ignorant. What use are prayers and shrines to a passionate woman? The flame was eating the soft marrow of her bones and the wound lived quietly under her breast. Dido was on fire with love ....
[tr. West (1990)]

Ah, the unknowing minds of seers! What use are prayers
or shrines to the impassioned? Meanwhile her tender marrow
is aflame, and a silent wound is alive in her breast.
Wretched Dido burns ....
[tr. Kline (2002)]

But what do prophets know? How much can vows,
Or shrines, help a raging heart? Meanwhile the flame
Eats her soft marrow, and the wound lives,
Silent beneath her breast. Dido is burning.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

But what can prophets know? What use are vows
and shrines to the obsessed? The flame devoured her soft marrow;
the silent wound throbbed in her heart.
Unhappy Dido burned.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

And let souls believe me that it is not the length of time spent in prayer that benefits one; when the time is spent as well in good works, it is a help in preparing the soul for the enkindling of love. The soul may thereby be better prepared in a very short time than through many hours of reflection.
[tr. Kavanaugh / Rodriguez]

And, believe me, it is not the length of time which makes a soul advance in prayer, but when being called to other works by obedience and charity, they do these duties well, then (as I have said) the soul advances so much, that in a very short time she is better prepared for enkindling within her the love of God, than (wanting in those works) she would be by spending many hours in meditation.
[tr. Dalton]

But believe me, what helps a soul to advance is not the spending long hours in prayer, but it is a great help to be employed also in active works, so that the soul is better disposed to enkindle its love in a very short space of time than by spending many hours in meditation.
[tr. Mason]

Dear Lord, lest I continue in my complacent ways, help me to remember that somewhere someone died for me today. And if there be war, help me to remember to ask, "Am I worth dying for?"

• Robert Ingersoll (1833-1899), without citation, supposedly on his deathbed, sometimes with the final phrase "... from hell, if there be a hell!"
• Ernest Renan (1823-1892) as "The Agnostic's Prayer" or "Prayer of a Skeptic [Prière d'un sceptique]" ("Ô Seigneur, s'il y a un Seigneur; sauvez mon âme, si j'ai une âme.")
• Frederick the Great (1712-1786), in M. Goldsmith, Frederick the Great (1929), without citation.
• Voltaire (1694-1778), without citation.

It was well answered by him who was shown in a temple the votive tablets suspended by such as had escaped the peril of shipwreck, and was pressed as to whether he would then recognise the power of the gods, by an inquiry; "But where are the portraits of those who have perished in spite of their vows?"
[tr. Wood (1831)]

And so he made a good answer, who, when he was shown, hung up in the temple, the votive tablets of those who had fulfilled their vows after escaping from shipwreck, and was pressed with the question, "Did he not then recognize the will of the gods?" asked, in his turn, "But where are the pictures of those who have perished, notwithstanding their vows?"
[tr. Johnson (1859)]

So when someone was shown a votive tablet in a temple dedicated, in fulfilment of a vow, by some men who had escaped the danger of shipwreck, and was pressed to say whether he would now recognise the divinity of the gods, he made a good reply, when he retorted: "Where are the offerings of those who made vows and perished?"
[tr. Silverthorne (2000)]

A man was shown a picture, hanging in a temple, of people who had made their vows and escaped shipwreck, and was asked ‘Now do you admit the power of the gods?’ He answered with a question: ‘Where are the pictures of those who made their vows and then drowned?’ It was a good answer!
[tr. Bennett (2017)]

"There are no atheists in foxholes, people say, and it's so true, it's so fucking true." Cassie swallowed, savoring the aftertaste of the Cheerios. "No ... no, I'm being too hard on myself. That maxim, it's not an argument against atheism -- it's an argument against foxholes."

Either fate, (and that either an absolute necessity, and unavoidable decree; or a placable and flexible Providence) or all is a mere casual confusion, void of all order and government. If an absolute and unavoidable necessity, why doest thou resist? If a placable and exorable Providence, make thyself worthy of the divine help and assistance. If all be a mere confusion without any moderator, or governor, then hast thou reason to congratulate thyself; that in such a general flood of confusion thou thyself hast obtained a reasonable faculty, whereby thou mayest govern thine own life and actions.
[tr. Casaubon (1634), #11]

Either the Order of Things are fixed by irrevocable Fate, or Providence may be worked into Compassion, or else the World Floats at Random without any Steerage. Now if nature lies under immovable Necessity, to what purpose should you struggle against it? If the favor of Providence is to be gained, qualify your self for the Divine Assistance: But if Chance, and Confusion carry it, and no body sits at the Helm; be you contented and Ride out the Storm patiently, for you have a Governor within you , though the World has none.
[tr. Collier (1701)]

There is either a fatal necessity, and an unalterably fixed order; or a kind and benign providence; or a blind confusion, without a governor. If there be an unalterable necessity, why strive against it? If there is a kind providence, which can be appeased; make yourself worthy of the divine aids. If there is an ungoverned confusion; yet compose yourself with this, that, amidst these tempestuous waves, you have a presiding intelligence within yourself.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]

Either all things are fixed by a fatal necessity and an inviolable order; or they are governed by a benevolent providence; or they proceed at random, without any one to direct them.
Now, if there be an immutable necessity, why do we struggle against it? If a kind and merciful Providence presides, make yourself worthy of the divine assistance: if the world is all confusion, without any one to conduct it, comfort yourself however that, amidst these tempestuous waves, you have an intelligent guide within your breast.
[tr. Graves (1792)]

Either there is a fatal necessity and invincible order, or a kind providence, or a confusion without a purpose and without a director. If then there is an invincible necessity, why dost thou resist? But if there is a providence which allows itself to be propitiated, make thyself worthy of the help of the divinity. But if there is a confusion without a governor, be content that in such a tempest thou hast in thyself a certain ruling intelligence.
[tr. Long (1862)]

Either the order of things is fixed by irrevocable fate, or providence may be worked into compassion, or else the world floats at random without any steerage. Now if nature lies under an immovable necessity, to what purpose should you struggle against it? If the favor of providence is to be gained, qualify yourself for divine assistance; but if chance and confusion prevail, be you contented that in such a storm you have a governing intelligence within you.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]

Either fixed necessity and inviolable order, or a merciful providence, or a random and ungoverned medley. If an inviolable necessity, why resist? If a providence waiting to be merciful, make yourself worthy of divine aid. If a chaos uncontrolled, be thankful that amid the wild waters you have yourself an Inner governing mind.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]

There is either a fatal necessity, an unalterable order, or a placable Providence, or a blind confusion without a governor. If there be an unalterable necessity, why strive against it? If there be a Providence admitting of propitiation, make yourself worthy of the divine aid. If there be an ungoverned confusion, be comforted; seeing that in this tempest you have within yourself a guiding intelligence.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]

There must be either a predestined Necessity and inviolable plan, or a gracious Providence, or a chaos without design or director. If then there be an inevitable Necessity, why kick against the pricks? If a Providence that is ready to be gracious, render thyself worthy of divine succour. But if a chaos without guide, congratulate thyself that amid such a surging sea thou hast a guiding Reason.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]

Either the Necessity of destiny and an order none may transgress, or Providence that hears intercession, or an ungoverned welter without a purpose. If then a Necessity which none may transgress, why do you resist? If a Providence admitting intercession, make yourself worthy of assistance from the Godhead. If an undirected welter, be glad that in so great a flood of waves you have yourself within you a directing mind.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

Either an ineluctable destiny and an order that none may overstep, or a providence that can be appeased, or an ungoverned confusion subject to nothing but chance. If, then, an inexorable necessity, why struggle against it? If a providence that allows itself to be appeased, make yourself worthy of aid from the divine. And if an ungoverned confusion, be glad that in such a swirl you have a mind that provides leadership.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.; 2011 ed.)]

Fatal necessity, and inescapable order. Or benevolent Providence. Or confusion -- random and undirected.
If it's an inescapable necessity, why resist it?
If it's Providence, admits of being worshipped, then try to be worthy of God's aid.
If it's confusion and anarchy, then be grateful that on this raging sea you have a mind to guide you.
[tr. Hays (2003)]

Either the compulsion of destiny and an order allowing no deviation, or a providence open to prayer, or a random welter without direction. Now if undeviating compulsion, why resist it? If a providence admitting the placation of prayer, make yourself worthy of divine assistance. If an ungoverned welter, be glad that in such a maelstrom you have within yourself a directing mind of your own.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]

Either predetermined necessity and unalterable cosmic order, or a gracious providence, or a chaotic ungoverned mixture. If a predetermined necessity, why do you resist? If it is a gracious Providence that can hear our prayers, then make yourself worthy of divine assistance. If a chaotic ungoverned mixture, be satisfied that in the midst of this storm, you have within yourself a mind whose nature it is to govern and command.
[tr. Needleman/Piazza (2008)]

Our Constitution separates church and state. We know that separation is a source of our system's strength, but the conscience of our nation does not call for separation between men of state and faith in the Supreme Being.

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.
[KJV (1611)]

You have heard that it was said, "Love your friends, hate your enemies." But now I tell you: love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may become the children of your Father in heaven. For he makes his sun to shine on bad and good people alike, and gives rain to those who do good and to those who do evil.
[GNT (1976)]

You have heard how it was said, You will love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say this to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you; so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he causes his sun to rise on the bad as well as the good, and sends down rain to fall on the upright and the wicked alike.
[NJB (1985)]

You have heard that it was said, You must love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who harass you so that you will be acting as children of your Father who is in heaven. He makes the sun rise on both the evil and the good and sends rain on both the righteous and the unrighteous.
[CEB (2011)]

You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. [NRSV (2021 ed.)]

Peace to all such as may have been vexed in spirit by any utterance these pages have repeated! They will, doubtless, forget for the moment the difference in the hues of truth we look at through our human prisms, and join in singing (inwardly) this hymn to the Source of the light we all need to lead us, and the warmth which alone can make us all brothers.

For he who sings praise, does not only praise, but also praises joyfully; he who sings praise, not only sings, but also loves Him whom he is singing about/to/for. There is a praise-filled public proclamation in the praise of someone who is confessing/acknowledging God, in the song of the lover there is love.

[Qui enim cantat laudem, non solum laudat, sed etiam hilariter laudat; qui cantat laudem, non solum cantat, sed et amat eum quem cantat. In laude confitentis est praedicatio, in cantico amantis affectio.

The one who sings praise, not only praises, but also praises joyfully; the one who sings praise, not only sings, but also loves Him for whom he sings. In the praise by one who confesses the Divine Being, praise actually is a public profession; and in the song of the lover is affection for the Beloved.