To send thee from my sight when thou wast able,
And to strange lands; my secret visitings
There, and revisitings; the dreams I sent thee,
Warnings of ill, and ecstasies of pride;
The thousand miracles I wrought to save thee,
And guard thee to thy prime;—and now men say
Thou art the first of the Greeks: their homaged kings
The gods condemn to death if thou withhold
Thy single arm. Why so? What hast thou done?
Where have men seen thee? Hast thou ruled like Nestor?