For who surviv’d the sun’s diurnal race 580
Rose from the dreary gates of hell redeem’d:
Some the sixth hour oppress’d, and some the third.
Of many thousands few untainted ’scap’d;
Of those infected fewer ’scap’d alive:
Of those who liv’d some felt a second blow; 585
And whom the second spar’d a third destroy’d.
Frantic with fear, they sought by flight to shun
The fierce contagion. O’er the mournful land
Th’ infected city pour’d her hurrying swarms: