Philostratus, Heroicus 55.2-3
After his death Achilles sings his thanks to Homer for immortalising him!
Ἀχώ, περὶ μυρίον ὕδωρ
μεγάλου ναίοισα πέρα Πόντου,
ψάλλει σε λύρα διὰ χειρὸς ἐμᾶς.
σὺ δὲ, θεῖον Ὅμηρον, ἀειδέ μοι,
κλέος ἀνέρων, κλέος ἀμετέρων πόνων,
δι’ ὃν οὐκ ἔθανον, δι’ ὃν ἔστι μοι
Πάτροκλος, δι’ ὃν ἀθανάτοις ἴσος
Αἴας ἐμός, δι’ ὃν ἁ δορίληπτος
ἀειδομένα σοφοῖς κλέος ἤρατο,
κοὐ πέσε Τροία.
Echo, you who dwell around the myriad waters beyond great Pontus, my lyre twangs for you at my hand. And you, divine Homer, sing to me, you, glory of men, glory of our labours, through whom I did not die, through whom Patroclus is mine, through whom my Ajax is the immortals’ equal, through whom Troy, sung of by skilled men for being won by the spear, carried off glory and did not fall.