So　much；　lived　on；　deprived　by　the　knife
  Of　the　male　member；　not　a　few；　though　lopped
  Of　hands　and　feet；　would　yet　persist　in　life；
  And　some　there　were　who　lost　their　eyeballs：　O
  So　fierce　a　fear　of　death　had　fallen　on　them！
  And　some；　besides；　were　by　oblivion
  Of　all　things　seized；　that　even　themselves　they　knew
  No　longer。　And　though　corpse　on　corpse　lay　piled
  Unburied　on　ground；　the　race　of　birds　and　beasts
  Would　or　spring　back；　scurrying　to　escape
  The　virulent　stench；　or；　if　they'd　tasted　there；
  Would　languish　in　approaching　death。　But　yet
  Hardly　at　all　during　those　many　suns
  Appeared　a　fowl；　nor　from　the　woods　went　forth
  The　sullen　generations　of　wild　beasts…
  They　languished　with　disease　and　died　and　died。
  In　chief；　the　faithful　dogs；　in　all　the　streets
  Outstretched；　would　yield　their　breath　distressfully
  For　so　that　Influence　of　bane　would　twist
  Life　from　their　members。　Nor　was　found　one　sure
  And　universal　principle　of　cure：
  For　what　to　one　had　given　the　power　to　take
  The　vital　winds　of　air　into　his　mouth；
  And　to　gaze　upward　at　the　vaults　of　sky；
  The　same　to　others　was　their　death　and　doom。
  In　those　affairs；　O　awfullest　of　all；
  O　pitiable　most　was　this；　was　this：
  Whoso　once　saw　himself　in　that　disease
  Entangled；　ay；　as　damned　unto　death；
  Would　lie　in　wanhope；　with　a　sullen　heart；
  Would；　in　fore…vision　of　his　funeral；
  Give　up　the　ghost；　O　then　and　there。　For；　lo；
  At　no　time　did　they　cease　one　from　another
  To　catch　contagion　of　the　greedy　plague；…
  As　though　but　woolly　flocks　and　horned　herds；
  And　this　in　chief　would　heap　the　dead　on　dead：
  For　who　forbore　to　look　to　their　own　sick；
  O　these　（too　eager　of　life；　of　death　afeard）
  Would　then；　soon　after；　slaughtering　Neglect
  Visit　with　vengeance　of　evil　death　and　base…
  Themselves　deserted　and　forlorn　of　help。
  But　who　had　stayed　at　hand　would　perish　there
  By　that　contagion　and　the　toil　which　then
  A　sense　of　honour　and　the　pleading　voice
  Of　weary　watchers；　mixed　with　voice　of　wail
  Of　dying　folk；　forced　them　to　undergo。
  This　kind　of　death　each　nobler　soul　would　meet。
  The　funerals；　uncompanioned；　forsaken；
  Like　rivals　contended　to　be　hurried　through。
  。　　　　　。　　　　　。　　　　　。　　　　　。　　　　　。
  And　men　contending　to　ensepulchre
  Pile　upon　pile　the　throng　of　their　own　dead：
  And　weary　with　woe　and　weeping　wandered　home；
  And　then　the　most　would　take　to　bed　from　grief。
  Nor　could　be　found　not　one；　whom　nor　disease
  Nor　death；　nor　woe　had　not　in　those　dread　times
  Attacked。
  By　now　the　shepherds　and　neatherds　all；
  Yea；　even　the　sturdy　guiders　of　curved　ploughs；
  Began　to　sicken；　and　their　bodies　would　lie
  Huddled　within　back…corners　of　their　huts；
  Delivered　by　squalor　and　disease　to　death。
  O　often　and　often　couldst　thou　then　have　seen
  On　lifeless　children　lifeless　parents　prone；
  Or　offspring　on　their　fathers'；　mothers'　corpse
  Yielding　the　life。　And　into　the　city　poured
  O　not　in　least　part　from　the　countryside
  That　tribulation；　which　the　peasantry
  Sick；　sick；　brought　thither；　thronging　from　every　quarter；
  Plague…stricken　mob。　All　places　would　they　crowd；
  All　buildings　too；　whereby　the　more　would　death
  Up…pile　a…heap　the　folk　so　crammed　in　town。
  Ah；　many　a　body　thirst　had　dragged　and　rolled
  Along　the　highways　there　was　lying　strewn
  Besides　Silenus…headed　water…fountains；…
  The　life…breath　choked　from　that　too　dear　desire
  Of　pleasant　waters。　Ah；　everywhere　along
  The　open　places　of　the　populace；
  And　along　the　highways；　O　thou　mightest　see
  Of　many　a　half…dead　body　the　sagged　limbs；
  Rough　with　squalor；　wrapped　around　with　rags；
  Perish　from　very　nastiness；　with　naught
  But　skin　upon　the　bones；　well…nigh　already
  Buried…　in　ulcers　vile　and　obscene　filth。
  All　holy　temples；　too；　of　deities
  Had　Death　becrammed　with　the　carcasses；
  And　stood　each　fane　of　the　Celestial　Ones
  Laden　with　stark　cadavers　everywhere…
  Places　which　warders　of　the　shrines　had　crowded
  With　many　a　guest。　For　now　no　longer　men
  Did　mightily　esteem　the　old　Divine；
  The　worship　of　the　gods：　the　woe　at　hand
  Did　over…master。　Nor　in　the　city　then
  Remained　those　rites　of　sepulture；　with　which
  That　pious　folk　had　evermore　been　wont
  To　buried　be。　For　it　was　wildered　all
  In　wild　alarms；　and　each　and　every　one
  With　sullen　sorrow　would　bury　his　own　dead；
  As　present　shift　allowed。　And　sudden　stress
  And　poverty　to　many　an　awful　act
  Impelled；　and　with　a　monstrous　screaming　they
  Would；　on　the　frames　of　alien　funeral　pyres；
  Place　their　own　kin；　and　thrust　the　torch　beneath
  Oft　brawling　with　much　bloodshed　round　about
  Rather　than　quit　dead　bodies　loved　in　life。
  End