Therefore from faces by our boughs o'ershadowed[253]
Let prayers ascend in emulous eagerness:
Ne'er may dark pestilence
This State of men bereave;
May no fierce party strife
Pollute these plains with native carcases;
And may the bloom of youth
Be with them still uncropt;
And ne'er may Aphrodite's paramour, 650
Ares the scourge of men,
Mow down their blossoms fair!