(The fumigation from aromatics)

 

O Royal Juno of majestic mien,

Aerial-form'd, divine, Jove's blessed queen,

Thron'd in the bosom of caerulean air,

The race of mortals is thy constant care.

The cooling gales thy pow'r alone inspires,

Which nourish life, which ev'ry life desires.

Mother of clouds and winds, from thee alone

Producing all things, mortal life is known:

All natures share thy temp'rament divine,

And universal sway alone is thine.

With sounding blasts of wind, the swelling sea

And rolling rivers roar, when shook by thee.

Come, blessed Goddess, fam'd almighty queen,

With aspect kind, rejoicing and serene.