Paris

When to thee, Trojan—firebrand of the night,Whom Hecuba, in fear, to Priam bore—The choice was given which should calm restoreTo vexed Olympos, thou didst spurn the rightOf regal sovereignty, and the grave mightOf godlike wisdom,—so renouncing moreThan e'er was offered to a man before,—In poor exchange for sensual delight.Thy fame is an undying infamy;And the great city that hath fairest bloomedThine adolescent graces,—strangely she,As if a name resembling thine foredoomed,Maintains the standards that appealed to thee,And by thy very vices is consumed.