Ploutos, god of wealth and abundance
Giver of largess indiscriminately
Blinded by Zeus so thy favors would rain
On the good and some who lived not virtuously
Conceived in the thrice-plowed field you were
Born of Demeter, goddess of grain
Master of riches brought forth of the earth
And those shining things which 'neath still remain.
Your eyes ever-darkened
You instead strain to hear
The hymns which do hearken
To your waiting ear.
Scion of Iasion
Cornucopia held high
This hymn now I offer
A votive not for your eye.