Nay, if any Achaian of those abiding
Beside the Ionian sea be near me,
He shall nowise blame me: I rest confiding
On my friendship-tie: mid the folk of my land
With clear gaze meeting their eyes I stand.
Of the charge of presumptuous dealing I clear me;
All violence thrust I, a hater of strife,
From my feet. May the residue of my life
Flow blithesomely! He shall testify
Who knoweth me, whether with slander and lie
I jangle the music of life as I go.
Sogenes, son of the Eupatrid Clan,
The mark-line never I overran
When I shot swift speech—as one that should throw