I.

Glory of the Thespiadum the Muses, unique hope of the fatherland's language,
MOLLER, you strive to bring gifts of a new kind?
The gifts, which you WRITE, do not produce small conveniences.
The youth sings more clearly through the work.
The Teutonic land now returns devoted prayers at the same time,
O happy spirit preparing sweet honey.
You spare no sweat and no labor;
While you bring forth the first thresholds of your study.
Solve the mine with the highest limit, and revolve with gain:
No light payment is solved from Heaven.
Take this book for yourself, reader, which MOLLER himself,
The delicious love of youths, has handed over.
If you count the years, he lives in flourishing youth;
If you see his manners and talent, he is an old man.

II.

To the benevolent Reader.

The renowned glory of the Teutonic language, MOLLER,
Was fabricating this work of the Siren for his own use,
When the Julia Musa the Muse of Helmstedt Academy joined both of us,
And consensus gave us to live under the same roof.
I often said: what are you doing, envious writer?
Do you live for yourself alone? The fatherland wants a part,
The progenitor wants a part, the Friend of studies demands a
Part. But do you adhere, half-deaf, to your attempts?
Make the writings that smell of oil see the light.
He, provoked so often: but I agree, he said;
Let them taste the first fruits (even if the entrails swell with Momo blame/Momus).
If they taste them, perhaps better grain will follow.