For the wrath of heaven is lifted,
Lifted from the rescued city.
Gone, the sound of rolling death-cart,
Hushed, the ringing, tolling belfry,
Still, the bier and gloomy shovel,
Still, the idle, listless sexton.
Other days of anxious watching
Followed, one or two years later;
Days when fierce, destructive fevers
Darkened many homes with mourning.[2]