Again, the ears of heaven are assailed by ignorant and superstitious prayers, against which the poet inveighs. Then follows a rebuke to those who pray for health and happiness, but who, by their vices and folly, thwart their own prayer. Why do men pray so impiously and foolishly? It is because they entertain such ignorant and unworthy conceptions of the gods, because they think that they are beings of like passions with themselves. No, no! the gods have no such carnal passions, nor do they care for gold and the rich offerings of men's hands. They regard the heart of the worshiper, and if this is pure, even empty hands may bring an acceptable offering. O grovelling souls, and void of things divine! Why bring our passions to the Immortals' shrine, And judge, from what this carnal sense delights, Of what is pleasing in their purer sights? This the Calabrian fleece with purple soils, And mingles cassia with our native oils; Tears from the rocky conch its pearly store, And strains the metal from the glowing ore. This, this, indeed, is vicious; yet it tends To gladden life, perhaps, and boasts its ends; But you, ye priests (for sure ye can), unfold-- In heavenly things, what boots this pomp of gold? No more, in truth, than dolls to Venus paid, The toys of childhood, by the riper maid! No! let me bring the Immortals what the race Of great Messala, now depraved and base, On their huge charger, cannot;--bring a mind Where legal and where moral sense are joined With the pure essence; holy thoughts that dwell In the soul's most retired and sacred cell; A bosom dyed in honor's noblest grain, Deep-dyed;--with these let me approach the fane, And heaven will hear the humble prayer I make, Though all my offering be a barley cake. Gifford. 4. DECIMUS JUNIUS JUVENALIS