In Time of Plague~ Monday Morning Poetry

I was never a morning person; and I'm definitely not a Monday morning person!  However, I'm trying to ease what is (for me) a rough transition by spending a few minutes with a classic poem.  Call it preemptive therapy.  Or call it "Monday Morning Poetry," which sounds much prettier, right?  Right.


Our plague's likely "hand, foot, and mouth," which only feels fatal-- but when an icky virus sweeps through the family, I'm just praying to make it through the day!  In a different sense.

From "A Litany in Time of Plague" by Thomas Nashe (1567-c.1601)

Kleenex, medicine, coffee pods, milkshake mix,
the last fruits of summer... Yep, it's a mess in here!
("Lord, have mercy...")

"Adieu, farewell, earth’s bliss;
This world uncertain is;
Fond are life’s lustful joys;
Death proves them all but toys;
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!. . . .

"Haste, therefore, each degree,
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player’s stage;
Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!"

Stay well, everyone-- and if you're ill, feel better soon!