This mountain, when the sea Poured o'er the earth her billows, rose alone, By one high peak scarce master of the waves, Parting the crest of waters from the stars.
There, to avenge his mother, from her home Chased by the angered goddess while as yet She bore him quick within her, Paean came (When Themis ruled the tripods and the spot) (8) And with unpractised darts the Python slew.
But when he saw how from the yawning cave A godlike knowledge breathed, and all the air Was full of voices murmured from the depths, He took the shrine and filled the deep recess; Henceforth to prophesy.
Which of the gods Has left heaven's light in this dark cave to hide?
What spirit that knows the secrets of the world And things to come, here condescends to dwell, Divine, omnipotent?
bear the touch of man, And at his bidding deigns to lift the veil?
Perchance he sings the fates, perchance his song, Once sung, is fate.

Haply some part of Jove Sent here to rule the earth with mystic power, Balanced upon the void immense of air, Sounds through the caves, and in its flight returns To that high home of thunder whence it came.
Caught in a virgin's breast, this deity Strikes on the human spirit: then a voice Sounds from her breast, as when the lofty peak Of Etna boils, forced by compelling flames, Or as Typheus on Campania's shore Frets 'neath the pile of huge Inarime.

(9) Though free to all that ask, denied to none, No human passion lurks within the voice That heralds forth the god; no whispered vow, No evil prayer prevails; none favour gain: Of things unchangeable the song divine; Yet loves the just.

When men have left their homes To seek another, it hath turned their steps Aright, as with the Tyrians; (10) and raised The hearts of nations to confront their foe, As prove the waves of Salamis: (11) when earth Hath been unfruitful, or polluted air Has plagued mankind, this utterance benign Hath raised their hopes and pointed to the end.
No gift from heaven's high gods so great as this Our centuries have lost, since Delphi's shrine Has silent stood, and kings forbade the gods (12) To speak the future, fearing for their fates.
Nor does the priestess sorrow that the voice Is heard no longer; and the silent fane To her is happiness; for whatever breast Contains the deity, its shattered frame Surges with frenzy, and the soul divine Shakes the frail breath that with the god receives, As prize or punishment, untimely death.
These tripods Appius seeks, unmoved for years These soundless caverned rocks, in quest to learn Hesperia's destinies.

At his command To loose the sacred gateways and permit The prophetess to enter to the god, The keeper calls Phemonoe; (13) whose steps Round the Castalian fount and in the grove Were wandering careless; her he bids to pass The portals.