So feel untainted the hot breath of hell. 320
With us, the man of no complaint demands
The warm ablution, just enough to clear
The sluices of the skin, enough to keep
The body sacred from indecent soil.
Still to be pure, even did it not conduce 325
(As much it does) to health, were greatly worth
Your daily pains. ’Tis this adorns the rich;
The want of this is poverty’s worst woe:
With this external virtue, age maintains