Votive sonnet to Minerva

So here’s me, all wondering what I ought to think about the prospect of getting LASIK surgery, not knowing whether I should trust myself to these mysterious lasers and throwing away so much money all in one place. I do some divination, and I’m like, “Yo, deities. If this is a terrible idea or whatever, just go ahead and let me know. Don’t spare my feelings. My proposal’s to get LASIK, but if I ought to change my mind and endure having annoying glass-and-metal contraptions on my face forever, I’m open to that too.”

So then I cast my astragaloi (knuckle-bones, in my case of white-tailed deer), and decode the message, and lo and behold, it comes back as follows: “Of the martial Minerva (ΑΘΗΝΑΣ ΑΡΕΙΑΣ). If four Chians (i.e. ones) and one three are cast, the god signals: ‘By avoiding enmity and animosity, you will reach your prize; you will arrive and the blue-eyed goddess Minerva will save you. The activity that you have in mind will turn out as you wish it.”

I thought that was an awfully positive signal, and I was keenly grateful to enlist the support of Minerva, because, I mean, wisdom—strategems—foresight—courage, I can has?

I therefore gratefully dedicate to Minerva the following votive sonnet:

Unwoven threads, a jumble, tell no tale
and limn no image to delight the mind;
dissolved, the elements cannot but fail
to form a structure, or as one to bind—
but as the chaos ere the world was made,
without a plan or scheme must aimless flow,
dissolve, disperse, insensibly then fade,
and leave untried its chance to join and grow.
’Tis thine, Minerva, such parts to interweave—
to let thy matchless wisdom pick and shed
and batten beauty, tangled bedlam cleave,
and craft divine blessings widely spread.
Let all the elements know thy expert hand
and come together true at thy command.

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Votive sonnet to Mercury

Attentive readers of this blog may already have picked up on the fact that Mercury is my patron deity, so I need no particular excuse to include him in my suite of votive sonnets in the event that my LASIK surgery was a success. What’s more, however, the particular divinatory instrument that I was using to gage whether I ought to go ahead with the procedure is specially dedicated to Hermes according to some of the Anatolian inscriptions from which it’s known. I refer to Hellenistic astragalomancy (which I practise using the knuckle-bones of a white-tailed deer that I ordered from Etsy from somebody in Utah or thereabouts who seemed to have plenty of unwanted deer knuckle-bones lying about…).

This is (of course!) the most tongue-in-cheek and self-referential of the sonnets I’ve written for this purpose. I present it to my readers today (Wednesday, the day of Mercury) in the hope that they, like the deity to whom it was offered, won’t find it too contemptible for their perusal.

Thy votary, by troubles laden down,
from anxious doubts humbly seeks relief,
to thee offering gesture, verb, and noun,
a wisp of frankincense, an oaken leaf—
as if to render visible internal grief
and place before the god an earnest note
to buy the loyalty of the sainted thief
(contented, dare we think, with so mean a groat).
But nay, the lusty nuncio with cock and goat
unstintingly bestows, with merry laugh,
abundant gifts to keep his throng afloat
and flits away, in hand his serpent staff.
Thus behind unnumbered successful schemes
the eye of Mercury sneakily gleams.

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Votive sonnet to Lenus Mars

The archæological evidence (notably at Pommern) indicates that some, at least, of the ancient worshippers of Lenus Mars considered his intervention efficacious in health matters. Many warrior deities in Gaul double as health deities, partly for the same reason that we all talk about ‘battling disease’ or ‘being a fighter’ against cancer or whatever, and partly because inflicting, avoiding, and recovering from injury are of course so central to the business of battle.

For the perhaps inadequate reason that I simply couldn’t stand glasses and contacts anymore, I decided to get LASIK surgery. It’s the first and only elective surgery I’ve ever had, and I naturally gave it very serious thought. The divinatory signals I got were very favourable, and I vowed devotional sonnets, if all went well, to Lenus Mars, Mercury, and Minerva. For the first I wrote a Petrarchan, for the second a Spenserian, and for the third a Shakespearean sonnet. It’s been a long time since I’ve written sonnets of any description, and I can’t claim that any of them are destined to undying fame, but I beg my readers’ indulgence for them all. Today (Tuesday, the day of Mars), I present my votive sonnet to Lenus Mars, the ‘bosky Mars’, healer and national protector of the Treveri.

As smiths the keenest weapons shape and hone
who know their plan and see their work most clear;
as archers aim their bolts so that they will not veer
and failing vision costs the chief his throne—
so sight the martial god presides o’er as his own.
In bygone days thy votaries with rheumy tear
as their sight with passing age began to blear,
O Lenus Mars, would look to thee alone.
So now I humbly pray thee, put to flight
the phantom foes that blur, obscure, and flash
and blind me save to colour, dark, and light.
Thy healing power use; thy endless might
exert, and my affliction from me dash.
An it please thee, restore me all my sight. 

 

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Votive hymn to the divine Faustina

polychrome Faustina the Elder

Polychrome version of the statue of the divine Faustina the Elder at Mt Holyoke.

Divine Faustina, august, eternal,
in you succeeding ages have saluted
a holy icon of women’s majesty.
Belovèd in life, belovèd in death,
on eagle’s wings borne to heaven,
eternal goddess forevermore,
your numen was adored by crowds,
your sacred image on a chariot drawn
by teams of elephants though Rome.
From countless pious people’s necks,
your likeness hung on sacred amulets.
Behold and give your blessing now,
I pray, divine, august Faustina,
to all the women who refuse
to be silent, who denounce the crimes
so long unjustly covered up,
and who now through your grace begin
to assume their rightful share of power.
Sustain their cause, divine Faustina,
and reveal to them the straightest way
to justice, dignity, and truth.
For this I thank you, goddess eternal,
and offer you this humble token.

DEAE · FAVSTINAE · AVGVSTAE · VIDVCVS · BRIGANTICI · V · S · L · M

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Votive hymn to the divine Antoninus Pius

antoninus_pius_lanuvium

Bust of the divine Antoninus Pius in the Glyptothek in Munich. (This image is a derivative work of a photograph in the public domain)

Divine lord Antoninus, famed for pious deeds,
a second Numa living thou wert felt to be:
attuned to what is right, judicious, kindly, wise.
Thy course provides for humankind a guide
to good and upright governance for aye.
With clemency thou didst temper justice stern,
with moderation thine inherent majesty,
with magnanimity thy true magnificence.
Unto the heavens, pious prince, didst thou ascend
to take thy rightful place among the deathless gods
and thus rejoin thy much adored Faustina there.
As god and goddess side by side eternally,
I honor thee and her. O Pius, thanks are due
to thee for all the wonders thou hast brought to pass,
restoring partly this Republic’s dignity.
May thy beneficent influence yet shine on those
in whom the people freely place their confidence,
and turn the minds of all the magistrates of state
to justice, not to pelf, vanity, or petty pride.
Let not corruption, depraved intolerance,
contempt for truth, or naked inhumanity
prevail again as hitherto. May unfit guards
be guarded with a vigilance that never fails.
I therefore humbly offer thee this pious gift.

DIVO · ANTONINO · PIO · VIDVCVS · BRIGANTICI · V · S · L · M

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Votive hymn to Libertas

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The most familiar depiction of the goddess Libertas in the United States. (This image is a derivative work of a photograph in the public domain)

To you, Liberty, were these states
in their infancy
dedicated—a solemn offering
in revolutionary times
by delegates anxious for what might be,
anxious to secure
the goodwill of Providence:
to you, Liberty, were their commonwealths
consecrated
and in you were they conceived.
Our every failure to secure for you
the freedom of the people
has been a debt incurred against you,
generous goddess—a debt
we must requite, or tremble
for the consequences.
Too long did slavery, the source
of misery to innocent millions
for toilsome centuries,
rebuke our nation’s insincerity,
and terrible was the wrath
of the avenging deities
exacted against the slaveholder and
the slaveholder’s every accomplice—
too long has freedom been
an empty promise
for millions of citizens.
Let us never fall away
from our dedication to you;
let us never waver in the earnestness
of our natal sacrifice.
Mighty goddess, stay not your hand
in scourging those powerful recreants
who would sin against you,
stealing children from their parents,
or shutting millions behind bars,
or depriving citizens of the franchise.
Strike quick
against your enemies, O goddess,
and save our commonwealth from worse
punishment in days to come.
Yours, immortal Liberty, is the torch
that lights the path for our republic;
yours the words that sing our destiny.
Your lofty tree roots deep in
the soil of Columbia;
beneath its shade may we rejoice
and feast forever upon its fruit.
I thank you, Liberty, for delivering
the house of the people from those
apostate to your divine grace.
Kindly accept my gifts,
my words of thanks,
my inexhaustible devotion.

DEAE · LIBERTATI · VIDVCVS · BRIGANTICI · V · S · L · M

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Votive hymn to Columbia

america__currier_and_ives_-_america,_1870__sm

“America” by Currier and Ives (1870)

Long ago, we hear from ancients,
Ocean’s depths were roiled and eddied:
out from sea the mighty turtle
rose and lifted up its substance,
making permanent its homestead
’twixt Atlantic and Pacific,
’twixt the Gulf and Arctic waters.
Ridges rose and valleys tumbled
on the shell of that great turtle.
Lakes colossal, painted deserts,
swamps entangled, plains majestic,
rounded out the glorious vista.
On the back of that great turtle,
proud Columbia made her dwelling.
Many names the goddess uses;
many tongues the goddess utters.
Many children does she number—
many climes and tastes she gives them.
Great her heart is, keen her wisdom:
home she gives to craft and science,
haven gives to hatred’s victims.
Dauntless goddess, sound your tocsins!
Chase away corrupt defilers,
chase away pollution’s minions,
chase away the madcaps’ poison!
Let us aid you, let us heed you:
let us heal your bruised dominion.
Let us merit to be numbered
rightly ’midst your pious children.

DEAE · COLVMBIAE · VIDVCVS · BRIGANTICI · V · S · L · M

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