Hail to the Queen of Heaven,
Hera Antheia, glorious lady.
Her throne is the clear sky,
royal blue breath of eternity;
her temper rages like the north wind.
Draped in the heady fragrance of summer blossoms,
her white arms shine, jasmine and hydrangea.
Queen of the city, of every fine and glorious thing,
every stained glass rose window that gleams
sodden with afternoon light and furiously bright,
none can compare to her.
Hail, daughter of Rhea, and praise always.