The fleets rush headlong o'er the sea, and lock
In a loud, long impact deafening the ear;
The hissing arrows make the heavens blear,
The heavy waves are clashing shock on shock.
Ares is with us, driving like a flock
The Persian ships which, when they staggering rear,
The rostrum pierces till, in mad career,
They crowd the shore and shatter on the rock.
The dusk climbs, but the most illustrious chase
The coward, and thrust from every vantage-place.
But now the moon breaks through the clouds, to show
Our native land kissed by its tender ray,
The glittering summits and the silvered bay,
And the free sea flowered with corpses of the foe.