We live well-ruled by an honoured king

We live well-ruled by an honoured king.

Beloved of the gods, in a happy isle;

Where merry winds of the gay sea bring

No foe to our shore, and the heavens smile

On a peaceful folk secure from fear,

Who gather the fruits of the earth at will.

And hymn their thinks to the gods, and rear

Their laughing babes unmindful of ill.

And ever we keep a feast of delight.

The betrothal of hearts, when spirits unite,

Creating an offspring of joy, a treasure

Unknown to the bad, for whom

The gods foredoom

The glitter of pleasure

And a dark tomb.

Blessed therefore O newly betrothed are ye.

The' happy to-day ye be,

Your happier times ye yet shall see.

We make our prayer to the gods.

The sun shall prosper the seasons' yield

With fuller crops for the wains to bear,

And feed our flocks in fold and field

With wholesome water and sweetest air.

Plenty shall empty her golden horn.

And grace shall dwell on the brows of youth.

And love shall come as the joy of morn,

To waken the eyes of pride and truth.

Blessed therefore thy happy folk are we.

Tho' happy to-day we be.

Our happier times are yet to see.

We render praise to the gods.

But chiefest of all in the highest height

To Love that sitteth in timeless might,

That tameth evil, and sorrow ceaseth.

And now we wish you again,

Again and again.

His joy that encreaseth.

And a long reign.