These blessings be thine, may all see plainly;
And this thou showest, O liberal-souled,
O princely ruler of many a street
Fair-circled with towers where thy squadrons meet;
And such riches and honour thy weal complete
That in fantasy’s folly he striveth vainly
Who saith that any surpassed thee of old
Among Hellene lords that be famed in story.
On the prow of my galley with flowers hung round
Will I take my stand as the praises I sing
Of thy prowess. Young hearts win strengthening
From courage when trumpets for onset ring.
Yea, thou, I proclaim it, hast won thee glory
Therefrom, a glory that knows no bound,