1 To Him, the far-renowned, the wise Ordainer, ancient and glorious, a song I offer. Enthroned in oil, the Lord, bliss-giver, is the firm support of noble riches.

2 By holy Law they kept supporting Order, by help of worship, in loftiest heaven, they who attained with born men to the Unborn, men seated on that stay, heaven's firm sustainer.

3 Averting woe, they labour hard to bring Him, the ancient, plenteous food as power resistless. May He, newly manifest, conquer His assailants: round Him they stand as round an angry lion.

4 When, like a mother, spreading forth to nourish, to cherish and regard each man that liveth, consuming all the strength that Thou hast gotten, Thou wanderest round, Thyself, in varied fashion.

5 May strength preserve the compass of Thy vigour, God! that broad stream of Thine that beareth riches. Thou, like a thief who keeps his refuge secret, hast holpen Atri to great wealth, by teaching.