Who lov'st fierce shouts and helmets bright,And Moorish warrior's glance of flameOr e'er he smite!Or Maia's son, if now awhileIn youthful guise we see thee here,Caesar's avenger—such the styleThou deign'st to bear;Late be thy journey home, and longThy sojourn with Rome's family;Nor let thy wrath at our great wrongLend wings to fly.Here take our homage, Chief and Sire;Here wreathe with bay thy conquering brow,And bid the prancing Mede retire,Our Caesar thou!Thus may Cyprus' heavenly queen,Thus Helen's brethren, stars of brightest sheen,Guide thee! May the sire of windEach truant gale, save only Zephyr, bind!So do thou, fair ship, that ow'st