May Hebe lead us to the sacred waters Pitchers in hand with perfumes and oils In hushed tones and solemn gaze To anoint Hera in her eve Tap the spring of fresh cool water And gently bathe the heavenly body Washing away the dusts of past Until covered and modest she stands As the sun sets and dawns again And as the seasons change so too May the Queen rise anew, purified A resplendent maiden fit for her king













