We place him with the famed ones passed away,
For his adventurous keel the first was seen
To thread the island Gardens of the Queen,
Where breezes made of perfumes ever play.

Far more than years, the surge and biting spray,
Infuriate storms, and long, long calms between,
Love of the mermaid and the fright, I ween,
Blanched his brown hair and turned his beard to gray.

Through him Castile led Triumph o'er the seas,
For his fleet crowned her that unrivaled one
Whose boundless empire saw no setting sun.

Prince of all pilots, Bartolome Ruiz,
Who, on the royal arms, still lustrous told,
Bears anchor sable with its chain of gold.