Which from Stymphalus’ mother-town comes winging,
From home to home—Sicilia, Arcady!
’Tis good the ship on anchors twain be swinging
In night of storm. May Heaven propitiously
Grant either folk high glory without stain.
In thy protection, Sea-lord King, enfolden
Straight onward may he sail: guard him from bane,
Spouse of the Sea-queen of the distaff golden,
And bless the gladsome flower of this my strain.