turns to the left just ahead. You'll go into the ravine

Nor could be found not one, whom nor disease

Nor death, nor woe had not in those dread times

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