Prayer to Apollo

To You, Phoebus Apollo, go these spoils, prizes of the night, taken from distinguished nobles, not yet washed clean of their blood. I trust that truly I have offered You an acceptable sacrifice. I, Your faithful priest and defender of Your sacred tripod against uncivilized enemies, commit these to You. If I have not disgraced Your traditional rites and strictly kept Your rule, come often to me, think me worthy to often enter into my thoughts and seize my mind. Although now crude honors are offered You — these broken arms stained with blood of honorable men — if ever, Paean, You will grant the return of my native home and the temples I long for, God of Lycia, remember my vows, and however many rich gifts and as many bulls as I have promised, demand they be fulfilled.