When the captain of Sicily’s fleet on-leading
The might of Syracuse, hurled to the sea
Their warrior youths from their ships light-speeding,
And set you thereby, ye Hellenes, free
From thraldom’s yoke hanging heavily o’er ye.
Yea, Athens and Sparta shall guerdon me
With thanks for my Salamis-lay, for the story
Of the battle before Kithairon, the glory
Won when the Medes of the curved bow fell:
And by Himera’s bank shall the song-flood swell
To Deinomenes’ sons’ battle-prowess, and tell
Of their victory.