And what their sin?"—They fell by one disease!
(Not by the Proteus maladies, that strike
Man into nothingness—not twice alike;)
By the blue pest, whose gripe no art can shun,
No force unwrench—out-singled one by one;
When like a timeless birth, the womb of Fate
Bore a new death, of unrecorded date,
And doubtful name. Far east its race begun,
Thence round the world pursued the westering sun;
The ghosts of millions following at its back,