You, o people of my world
I bless you and yours
With the fruits of my body
And the very sweat of my brow
I who am mother of the corn and seed
Who taught you how to harvest my many blessings
You have prayed to me, and I have answered
You hoped and I have given you a chance
I, mother and goddess of the tilled soil
You, o people of these lands
I watch you as you toil
And toil hard at the feeding of the world
Too often dishonored by your fellows
But not by me, for I am honored by your labor
To bring my blessings to light
You have cried and I have seen you
You who too often remain unthanked
I, goddess and guardian of the farmer, see you
You, o people of the soil
You who have given me many names
You who have offered me milk and honey cakes
And the moldering meat of pigs
To refresh the very soil you work
As I taught you long ago
I, Demeter of the gold brown hair
And the bearing of a queen
I see you and am made proud
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