To Asklepios

I call to Asklepios, finest of physicians,
son of far-shooting Apollo, known as Paean,
student of immortal Cheiron, wisest of centaurs,
counselor of heroes. In Epidaurus
were you well honored; many were the supplicants
who prayed to you for healing, many were the cures
granted, the petitions answered, the heartfelt thanks
received by you, O kindly Asklepios.
Throughout the land were you known, did men and women
beg your blessing; your altars overflowed
with their grateful offerings, your temples sheltered
those who sought your favor in dreams. Asklepios,
friend of the people, friend of the suffering, soother
of pain, healer of ills, restorer of health,
good-hearted Asklepios, I call to you.

To Nike

I call to Nike, daughter of wrathful Pallas
and deep-hearted Styx. Attendant on thundering Zeus,
your firm hand guides his chariot, drawn by the four winds;
with your kin you stand guard by his golden throne.
All who contend, who strive and who spar, are yours;
all who sport and play, for joy or for glory, are yours;
all who wage war, who clash and who kill, are yours.
Golden Nike, blessed goddess, we seek your favor,
to heighten our skill when it may be lacking,
to augment our might where it may be wanting,
to grant us strength of will and swiftness of step,
to steady our hand, to lead us to triumph.
Nike, bright-winged goddess, companion of grey-eyed
Athena, bringer of sweet victory, holder of
the cherished laurel, Nike, I call to you.

To Tyche

I call to Tyche, goddess who spins the wheel,
who throws the dice, who guides the course of our lives.
In ancient times your temples stood across the land,
your image carved in stone or cast in shining bronze,
garlanded with bright flowers, offered sweet incense
and honeyed wine. Ever were prayers on the lips
of those who sought your favor, ever were songs
of praise sung out by those who received your comfort.
We see you in the ebb and flow of the world's well-being;
we know you in the uncertainty of our lives;
we praise you for your mercy, we thank you for your bounty.
Gracious Tyche, friend of the hopeful and the lost,
friend of those who struggle, friend of those who tempt fortune
and those who hold each blessing close, high-crowned Tyche,
guardian of serendipity, I call to you.

To Gaia

I call to Gaia, broad-bosomed mother of all;
from Chaos were you born, goddess, first among the gods.
Mighty Ouranos you made, gentle Gaia,
to be your mate, to father your many offspring.
Great are your children, mother of Titans, mother
of giants, each one dear to your great heart.
In every province you receive due honors,
for every city you provide a steady seat.
Gaia, you stand witness to the oaths of men,
you give your counsel with the voice of the seer,
your vengeance falls on those who profane the ground
with blood wrongly shed. Within you lie
the honored dead who receive, with you, libations
of sweet wine; within you lie the roots and seeds
that bring us all to life. Gaia, I call to you.