Lest with foul hands you touch these holy rites,
And with prejudicacies too profane,
Pass Homer in your other poets’ slights,
Wash here. In this porch to his num’rous fane,
Hear ancient oracles speak, and tell you whom
You have to censure. First then Silius hear,
Who thrice was consul in renowned Rome,
Whose verse, saith Martial, nothing shall out-wear.