Translated by Edward Marsh, 1941:

The man to his just purpose true
No ravening mob’s foul-passion’d hue and cry,
No tyrant’s frown, brow-beating, eye to eye,
Shall move, what his firm mind holds wrong, to do,

Nor yet Jove’s clenched bolt-hurling hand,
Nor Hadria by tumultuous Auster driven;
He, were the round world from its axle riven,
Calm ‘neath the ruining firmament would stand.

Translated by Hugh MacNaghten, 1926:

The righteous man who holds his purpose fast
None from the rock of his resolve shall cast,
Not mobs aflame for wrong, nor tyrant’s frown
Vindictive, nor the South, with stormy blast,

By restless Adriatic waves obeyed,
Nor hand almighty on the lightning laid,
Though on his head fall ruining the world,
Ruin will overwhelm him unafraid.

Translated by John Conington, 1863:

The man of firm and righteous will,
No rabble, clamorous for the wrong,
No tyrant’s brow, whose frown may kill,
Can shake the strength that makes him strong:
Not winds, that chafe sea they sway,
Nor Jove’s right band, with lightning red:
Should Nature’s pillar’d frame give way,
That wreck should strike one fearless head.

Translated by Lord Byron, 1806:

The man of firm, and noble soul,
No factious clamours can controul,
No threat’ning tyrant’s darkling brow,
Can swerve him from his just intent;
Gales the warring waves which plow,
By Auster on the billows spent,
To curb the Adriatic main,
Would awe his fix’d determined mind in vain.

Translated by Philip Francis, 1743:

The man, in conscious virtue bold,
Who dares his secret purpose hold,
Unshaken hears the crowd’s tumultuous cries,
And the impetuous tyrant’s angry brow defies.

Let the wild winds, that rule the seas;
Tempestuous, all their horrors raise;
Let Jove’s dread arm with thunders rend the spheres,
Beneath the crush of worlds undaunted he appears.