Waiting For the Plague To Pass

I know not when we shall shake hands again Or hold in warm embrace for the sheer joy Of each sunrise and moonlight For the plague and news of frightful deaths In faraway lands Have erected monuments of fear in our hearts This scourge knows not the old or one with gold It has made unsure the prophesies of seers Who did not foretell its emergence from the East Though bearers of the Rod of Asclepius have Responded with their art Each day is made uncertain With sirens announcing the next patient for isolation And the morticians awaiting the next carcass Of the mighty and the lowly levelled by the plague The king’s men and town criers have told of The enormous chains at city gates They have forbidden us to act as free men But a woeful lot propelled by raw ignorance Have defied the king’s edict and Like stray goats tempting a rustler They dare the plague to come nigh Our store houses have grown lean And Like a century ago None from this can flee except God shows mercy