Against the war, by accusations false
The Greeks condemned, and sent to gloomy death;
But whom they now with fruitless grief lament:
To him my sire, while yet the war was young,
By poverty impelled, consigned his son
To serve the prince, by double ties endeared
Of blood and comradeship
While he in power
And in the councils of the kings stood high,
I, too, by his reflected light, enjoyed