The Homeric Hymn to Demeter

This is a prose adaptation of a poem lasting nearly a thousand lines. To cite this source at the end of sentence, please reference the title in parentheses at the end of a sentence. An example would be (Homeric Hymn of Demeter).

The Snatching of Persephone

I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter, awful goddess—of her and her trim-ankled daughter Persephone whom Hades snatched away, given to him by all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer. Apart from Demeter, lady of the golden sword and glorious fruits, Persephone was playing with the daughters of Oceanus and gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful violets, irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus which Earth made to grow at the will of Zeus and to please Hades, to be a snare for the bloom-like girl—a marvelous, radiant flower. It was a thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its root grew a hundred blooms and it smelled most sweetly, so that all wide heaven above and the whole earth and the sea’s salt swell laughed for joy. And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take the lovely bloom; but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain of Nysa, and the lord Hades with his immortal horses sprang out upon her—the Son of Kronos, He who has many names.

He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bore her away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon her father Zeus, the Son of Kronos, who is most high and excellent. But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit. Only the god of the sun Helios heard her, and he was far away. So Hades, that Son of Kronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot—his own brother’s child and all unwilling.

Demeter Searches for Persephone

Bitter pain seized Demeter’s heart, and she rent the covering upon her divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak she cast down from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell her the truth, neither god nor mortal man; and of the birds of omen none came with true news for her. Then for nine days queenly Demeter wandered over the earth with flaming torches in her hands, so grieved that she never tasted ambrosia and the sweet draught of nectar, nor sprinkled her body with water. But when the tenth enlightening dawn had come, Demeter went to Helios to speak with him.

Helios is watchman of both gods and men, and stood in front of his horses: and the bright goddess enquired of him: “Helios, through the fruitless air I heard the cry of my daughter whom I bore, sweet scion of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently; though with my eyes I saw nothing. But you—for with your beams you look down from the bright upper air over all the earth and sea—tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere, what god or mortal man has violently seized her against her will and mine, and so made off.”

Helios the Son of Hyperion answered her, “Queen Demeter, daughter of rich-haired Rhea, I will tell you the truth; for I greatly reverence and pity you in your grief for your trim-ankled daughter. None other of the deathless gods is to blame, but only cloud-gathering Zeus who gave her to Hades, her father’s brother, to be called his wife. And Hades seized her and took her loudly crying in his chariot down to his realm of mist and gloom. Yet, goddess, cease your loud lament and keep not vain anger unrelentingly: Hades is no unfitting husband among the deathless gods for your child, being our own brother and born of the same stock: also, for honor, he has the underworld and is appointed lord of those among whom he dwells.”

So he spoke, and called to his horses: and at his chiding they quickly whirled the swift chariot along, like long-winged birds.

Demeter Goes to Eleusis, near Athens

But grief yet more terrible and savage came into the heart of Demeter, and thereafter she was so angered with Zeus that she avoided the gathering of the gods and high Olympus, and went to the towns and rich fields of men, disfiguring her form a long while. And no one of men or deep-bosomed women knew her when they saw her, until she came to the house of wise Celeus who then was lord of fragrant Eleusis. Vexed in her dear heart, she sat near the wayside by the Maiden Well, from which the women of the place were used to draw water, in a shady place over which grew an olive shrub. And she was like an ancient woman who is cut off from childbearing and the gifts of garland-loving Aphrodite, like the nurses of king’s children who deal justice, or like the house-keepers in their echoing halls. There the daughters of Celeus, son of Eleusis, saw her, as they coming for easy-drawn water, to carry it in pitchers of bronze to their dear father’s house. They knew her not, for gods are not easily recognized by mortals, but startling her they asked, “Old mother, where have you come from? Why are you gone away from the city and do not draw near the houses? For there in the shady halls are women of just such age as you, and others younger; and they would welcome you both by word and by deed.”

Demeter, wishing to remain disguised, answered them saying, “Hail, dear children, whosoever you are of woman-kind. I will tell you my story; for it is not unseemly that I should tell you truly what you ask. Doso is my name, for my stately mother gave it me. And now I am come from Crete over the sea’s wide back, not willingly; pirates brought me from there by force of strength against my liking. Afterwards they put in with their swift craft to Thoricus, and these the women landed on the shore in full throng and the men likewise, and they began to make ready a meal by the stern-cables of the ship. But my heart craved not pleasant food, and I fled secretly across the dark country and escaped my masters, that they should not take me unpurchased across the sea, there to win a price for me. And so I wandered and am come here: and I know not at all what land this is or what people are in it. Take pity on me, maidens, and show me this clearly that I may learn, dear children, a house where I may go, a family I may work for cheerfully at such tasks as belong to a woman of my age. Well could I nurse a newborn child, holding him in my arms, or keep house, or teach the women their work.”

So said the goddess. And straightway one of the maidens named Callidice answered, “If you will, stay here; and we will go to our father’s house and tell Metaneira, our deep-bosomed mother, all this matter fully, that she may bid you rather come to our home than search after the houses of others. She has an only son, recently born, who is being nursed in our well-built house, a child of many prayers and welcome: if you could bring him up until he reached the full measure of youth, any one of womankind who should see you would straightway envy you, such gifts would our mother give for his upbringing.”

The goddess bowed her head in assent. Soon they came to the house, but the goddess walked to the threshold: and her head reached the roof and she filled the doorway with a heavenly radiance. Then awe and reverence and pale fear took hold of Metaneira, and she rose up from her couch before Demeter, and asked her to be seated. But Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of perfect gifts, would not sit upon the bright couch, but stayed silent with lovely eyes cast down until a servant placed a jointed seat for her and threw over it a silvery fleece. Then she sat down and held her veil in her hands before her face. A long time she sat upon the stool without speaking because of her sorrow, and greeted no one by word or by sign, but rested, never smiling, and tasting neither food nor drinks because she pined with longing for her deep-bosomed daughter, until a servant moved the holy lady with many a quip and jest to smile and laugh and cheer her heart.

Metaneira first began to speak: “Hail, lady! For I think you are nobly born; truly dignity and grace are conspicuous upon your eyes as in the eyes of kings that deal justice. Yet we mortals bear perforce what the gods send us, though we be grieved; for a yoke is set upon our necks. But now, since you are come here, you shall have what I can bestow: and nurse me this child whom the gods gave me in my old age and beyond my hope, a son much prayed for. If you should bring him up until he reach the full measure of youth, any one of woman-kind that sees you will straightway envy you, so great reward would I give for his upbringing.”

Then rich-haired Demeter answered her: “And to you, also, lady, all hail, and may the gods give you good! Gladly will I take the boy to my breast, as you bid me, and will nurse him. Never, I ween, through any heedlessness of his nurse shall witchcraft hurt him nor yet the plow: for I know a charm far stronger than the axe, and I know an excellent safeguard against woeful witchcraft.”

Demeter Raises Demophoon and Reveals Herself

Demeter took the child in her fragrant bosom with her divine hands: and his mother was glad in her heart. So the goddess nursed in the palace Demophoon, wise Celeus’ goodly son whom Metaneira bore. And the child grew like some immortal being, not fed with food nor nourished at the breast: for by day rich-crowned Demeter would anoint him with ambrosia as if he were the offspring of a god and breathe sweetly upon him as she held him in her bosom. But at night she would hide him like a brand in the heart of the fire, unknown to his dear parents. And it wrought great wonder in these that he grew beyond his age; for he was like the gods face to face. And she would have made him deathless and un-aging, had not Metaneira in her heedlessness spied on Demeter and seen it. She wailed and struck her hips, because she feared for her son and was greatly distraught in her heart; so she lamented and uttered winged words:

“Demophoon, my son, the strange woman buries you deep in fire and works grief and bitter sorrow for me.”

Thus she spoke, mourning. And the bright goddess, lovely-crowned Demeter, heard her, and was angry with her. So with her divine hands she snatched from the fire the dear son whom Metaneira had born unhoped-for in the palace, and cast him from her to the ground; for she was terribly angry in her heart. Forthwith she said to Metaneira:

“Witless are you mortals and dull to foresee your lot, whether of good or evil, that comes upon you. For now in your heedlessness you have made folly past healing; for—be witness the oath of the gods, the relentless water of Styx—I would have made your dear son deathless and un-aging all his days and would have bestowed on him ever-lasting honor, but now he can in no way escape death and the fates. Yet shall unfailing honor always rest upon him, because he lay upon my knees and slept in my arms. But, as the years move round and when he is in his prime, the sons of the Eleusinians shall ever wage war and dread strife with one another continually. Behold! I am that Demeter who has share of honor and is the greatest help and cause of joy to the undying gods and mortal men. But now, let all the people build me a great temple and an altar below it and beneath the city and its sheer wall upon a rising hill. And I myself will teach my rites, that hereafter you may reverently perform them and so win the favor of my heart.”

When she had so said, the goddess changed her stature and her looks, thrusting old age away from her: beauty spread round about her and a lovely fragrance was wafted from her sweet-smelling robes, and from the divine body of the goddess a light shone afar, while golden tresses spread down over her shoulders, so that the strong house was filled with brightness as with lightning. And so she went out from the palace.

Straightway Metaneira’s knees gave way and she remained speechless for a long while and did not remember to take up her late-born son from the ground. But his sisters heard his pitiful wailing and sprang down from their well-spread beds: one of them took up the child in her arms and laid him in her bosom, while another revived the fire, and a third rushed with soft feet to bring their mother from her fragrant chamber. And they gathered about the struggling child and washed him, embracing him lovingly; but he was not comforted, because nurses and handmaids much less skillful were holding him now.

All night long they sought to appease the glorious goddess, quaking with fear. But, as soon as dawn began to show, they told Metaneira’s husband Celeus all things without fail, as the lovely-crowned goddess Demeter charged them. So Celeus called the people to an assembly and bade them make a goodly temple for rich-haired Demeter and an altar upon the rising hillock. And they obeyed him right speedily and harkened to his voice, doing as he commanded. As for the child, he grew like an immortal being.

The Destructiveness of Demeter’s Grief

Now when they had finished building and had drawn back from their toil, they went every man to his house. But golden-haired Demeter sat there apart from all the blessed gods and stayed, wasting with yearning for her deep-bosomed daughter. Then she caused a most dreadful and cruel year for mankind over the all-nourishing earth: the ground would not make the seed sprout, for rich-crowned Demeter kept it hid. In the fields the oxen drew many a curved plough in vain, and much white barley was cast upon the land but did not grow. So she would have destroyed the whole race of humankind with cruel famine and have robbed them who dwell on Olympus of their glorious right of gifts and sacrifices, had not Zeus perceived and marked this in his heart. First he sent golden-winged Iris to call rich-haired Demeter, and finding her in Eleusis in her temple Iris delivered this message:

“Demeter, father Zeus, whose wisdom is everlasting, calls you to come join the tribes of the eternal gods: come therefore, and let not the message I bring from Zeus pass un-obeyed.”

Thus said Iris imploring her. But Demeter’s heart was not moved. Then again Zeus sent forth all the blessed and eternal gods besides: and they came, one after the other, and kept calling her and offering many very beautiful gifts and whatever rights she might be pleased to choose among the deathless gods. Yet no one was able to persuade her mind and will, so angry was she in her heart; but she stubbornly rejected all their words: for she vowed that she would never set foot on fragrant Olympus nor let fruit spring out of the ground, until she beheld with her eyes her own fair-faced daughter.

Now when all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer heard this, he sent Hermes to the underworld, so that having won over Hades with soft words, he might lead forth Persephone to the light from the misty gloom to join the gods, and that her mother might see her with her eyes and cease from her anger. And Hermes obeyed, and leaving the house of Olympus, straightway sprang down with speed to the hidden places of the earth. And he found the lord Hades in his house seated upon a couch, and his shy mate Persephone with him, much reluctant, because she yearned for her mother. And the strong Hermes drew near and said:

“Dark-haired Hades, ruler over the departed, father Zeus bids me bring noble Persephone forth from the underworld unto the gods, that her mother may see her with her eyes and cease from her dread anger with the immortals; for now she plans an awful deed, to destroy the weakly tribes of earthborn men by keeping seed hidden beneath the earth, and so she makes an end of the honors of the undying gods. For she keeps fearful anger and does not consort with the gods, but sits aloof in her fragrant temple, dwelling in the rocky hold of Eleusis.”

Hades’s Deception

So he said. And Hades, ruler over the dead, smiled grimly and obeyed the behest of Zeus the king. For he straightway urged wise Persephone, saying:

“Go now, Persephone, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart towards me: do not feel cast down; for I am not an unfit husband. And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods: those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished for evermore.”

When he said this, wise Persephone was filled with joy and hastily sprang up for gladness. But Hades on his part secretly gave her sweet pomegranate seed to eat, taking care for himself that she might not remain forever with Demeter, because anyone who ate the food of the underworld must remain there. Then Hades got ready his deathless horses beneath the golden chariots. And she mounted on the chariot and Hermes took reins and whip in his dear hands and drove forth from the hall, the horses speeding readily. Swiftly they traveled their long course, and neither the sea nor river-waters nor grassy glens nor mountain-peaks checked the career of the immortal horses, but they clave the deep air above them as they went. And Hermes brought them to the place where rich-crowned Demeter was staying and checked them before her fragrant temple.

And when Demeter saw them, she rushed forth as does a nymph down some thick-wooded mountain, while Persephone on the other side, when she saw her mother’s sweet eyes, left the chariot and horses, and leaped down to run to her, and falling upon her neck, embraced her. But while Demeter was still holding her dear child in her arms, her heart suddenly misgave her for some snare, so that she feared greatly and ceased fondling her daughter and asked of her at once: “My child, tell me, surely you have not tasted any food while you were below? Speak out and hide nothing, but let us both know. For if you have not, you shall come back from loathly Hades and live with me and your father, and be honored by all the deathless gods; but if you have tasted food, you must go back again beneath the secret places of the earth, there to dwell a third part of the year: yet for the remaining two thirds you shall be with me and the other deathless gods. But when the earth shall bloom with the fragrant flowers of spring in every kind, then from the realm of darkness and gloom you shall come up once more to be a wonder for gods and mortal men. And now tell me how he snatched you away to the realm of darkness and gloom, and by what trick did the strong Hades beguile you?”

Then beautiful Persephone answered her, “Mother, I will tell you all without error. When Hermes came, bidding me come back from the underworld that you might see me with your eyes and so cease from your anger and fearful wrath against the gods, I sprang up at once for joy; but Hades secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will. All this is true, sore though it grieves me to tell the tale.”

So did mother and daughter then, with hearts at one despite Hades’s deception, greatly cheer each the other’s soul and spirit with many an embrace: their hearts had relief from their griefs while each took and gave back joyousness.

Compromise

And all-seeing Zeus sent a messenger to them, rich-haired Rhea, to bring dark-cloaked Demeter to join the families of the gods: and he promised to give her what rights she should choose among the deathless gods and agreed that her daughter should go down for the third part of the circling year to darkness and gloom, but for the two parts should live with her mother and the other deathless gods. As spring-time waxed, the fields were soon to be waving with long ears of corn, and their rich furrows to be loaded with grain upon the ground, while others would already be bound in sheaves. And hearing the commands of Zeus, rich-crowned Demeter did not refuse but straightway made fruit to spring up from the rich lands, so that the whole wide earth was laden with leaves and flowers. Then she went, and showed the conduct of her rites and taught them all her mysteries to the people of Eleusis—awful mysteries which no one may in any way transgress or pry into or utter. Happy is he who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiated and who has no part in them never has lot of like good things once he is dead, down in the darkness and gloom.

When the bright goddess had taught them all, Demeter and Persephone went to Olympus to the gathering of the other gods. And there they dwell beside Zeus who delights in thunder, awful and reverend goddesses. Right blessed is he among men on earth whom they freely love: soon they do send Persephone to Hades as guest to his great house, for one third of the year.

To cite this reading, use the following format:

Homer. Hymn to Demeter. Translated by Hugh Evelyn-White. Loeb Classical Library, https://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/demeter.htm.