In vernal green shall it renew itself,650
The air shall give again pure springs of life,
And to the woods their beauty shall return.
Destruction, Pestilence and Death, Distress,
Disease, Despair—his fitting company—
Shall all depart with him. And he, indeed,
Will seek with eager haste to flee his realm,
But him will I hedge round with barriers,655
And hold him back. Uncertain of his way,
And with his staff to guide his faltering steps,