Keep nibbling away the Comedians' pay;--to these I utter my warning
cry,
I charge them once, I charge them twice, I charge them thrice, that
they draw not nigh
To the sacred dance of the Mystic choir. But YE, my comrades, awake the
song,
The night-long revels of joy and mirth which ever of right to our feast
belong.

(_The start of the procession_.)

Advance, true hearts, advance!
On to the gladsome bowers,
On to the sward, with flowers
Embosomed bright!
March on with jest, and jeer, and dance,
Full well ye've supped to-night.

(_The processional hymn to Persephone_.)

March, chanting loud your lays,
Your hearts and voices raising,
The Saviour goddess praising
Who vows she'll still
Our city save to endless days,
Whate'er Thorycion's will.

Break off the measure, and change the time; and now with chanting and
hymns adorn
Demeter, goddess mighty and high, the harvest-queen, the giver of corn.