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'stVirgil, thy precious freight, to Attic coast,Safe restore thy loan and whole,And save from death the partner of my soul!Oak and brass of triple foldEncompass'd sure that heart, which first made boldTo the raging sea to trustA fragile bark, nor fear'd the Afric gustWith its Northern mates at strife,Nor Hyads' frown, nor South-wind fury-rife,Mightiest power that Hadria knows,Wills he the waves to madden or compose.What had Death in store to aweThose eyes, that huge sea-beasts unmelting saw,Saw the swelling of the surge,And high Ceraunian cliffs, the seaman's scourge?