Behold the signs of ancient fight, his scars!
Whate'er he hath, his body gained in wars.20
Perhaps he'll tell how oft he slew a man,
Confessing this, why dost thou touch him than?[402]
I, the pure priest of Phœbus and the Muses,
At thy deaf doors in verse sing my abuses.
Not what we slothful know,[403] let wise men learn,
But follow trembling camps and battles stern.
And for a good verse draw the first dart forth:[404]
Homer without this shall be nothing worth.