The Hymn to Hermes Kriophoros

Of all the cities that invoke your name first, Lord, Tanagra has long been among your favorites. There they call you Kriophoros, Ram-Bearer. This is why:

No one knew who affronted the Gods. Their anger was in the summer heat that hung low and heavy over the houses and the fields. It crept among the houses as the mountain lion creeps among the trees. Mothers woke to find their children screaming with fever. Farmers, their limbs shaking, left their crops scorching in the heat. And many of the old never rose again.

Fiercely the funeral pyres burned as the cicadas sawed in the trees. Fiercely the Tanagrans cried to the sky, their cheeks stung by tears.

And then you appeared, O Lord.

Terror follows epiphanies of the Gods. You beckoned the Tanagrans to rise from where they hid their faces in the dust. They brought forward a ram, biggest of the herds, saved for sacrifice. The proud animal strained against their thin arms.

Easily you lifted the ram and set him about your broad shoulders. He lay docile there, eyes blinking in the divine radiance, the whorls of his fleece mingling with the tender hairs at the back of your neck.

A cry went up from the people.

At your first few steps, a cool breeze broke through the summer heat. It dried the fevered sweat on the Tanagrans’ brows. You bore the ram to the city gate and the trembling fled their limbs. Dust glittered on your high-arched feet as they traced the city walls.

There in the marketplace, the Tanagrans waited. They stared at each other with clear eyes, clasped each other with steady hands. Through the city gate you returned, wading into the crowd, and from your light-glancing shoulders you lowered the ram, now limp and strangely hot to the touch, into their outstretched arms.

A cry went up from the people.

Each year now they mark this day in your honor. A youth comes forth: his grace comes closest to that of the Deathless Ones; Their blessings shine forth from his face. On his strong shoulders he takes the ram, and the path he follows around the city walls is the same as that first day. The ram he sacrifices to your glory, you, Hermes Kriophoros.