Mycenae and Troy

The cities of Homer are sunk in dust, but live forever in his Iliad.

9.28

POMPEY, OR SOME SAY MARCUS THE YOUNGER

I lie here desolate beneath the dust, 

Mycenae, less to see than any knoll. 

And yet whoever who looks on Ilium, 

That famous town whose walls I trampled down, 

And purged the house of Priam — they shall know 

What strength I owned. If age has slighted me, 

I am content in Homer’s witnessing.

9.62

EUĒNUS OF ASCALON

I, sacred Ilium, that storied town 

Whose tower-studded walls were famed in song: 

Stranger, the dust of time has eaten me. 

In Homer, though, I rest inviolate, 

Behind my gates of bronze. Achaean spears 

That ruined Troy can never root me thence; 

I shall be reside upon the very lips 

Of every single Hellene yet to come.