“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!
“Rich
men, trust not in wealth,
Gold
cannot buy you health;
Physic
himself must fade.
All
things to end are made,
The
plague full swift goes by;
I
am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!”— English
poet-playwright Thomas Nashe (1567-1601), “A Litany in Time of Plague”
I
came across this poem last night while paging through a poetry anthology. In
the middle of the third verse, and especially a striking single line—“Brightness
falls from the air”—I realized that I had encountered it nearly 30 years
before, in Jay McInerney’s novel of America in the grip of a Wall Street crash
and the spiraling spread of the deadly disease AIDS: Brightness Falls.
We
find ourselves in a similar situation today, except that the Coronavirus—just declared
a pandemic by the World Health Organization—has appeared and attacked more
swiftly than even AIDS. The Coronavirus has left many of us with a sense of
rising dread—that is, when we’re not experiencing anger at those (who shall
remain nameless!) who pooh-poohed its strength.
In
times like this, history provides a fine reassurance in its attempt at rationality.
For instance, this National Geographic clip shows how growth of trade, urbanization, and a lack of medical knowledge all
contributed to the spread of plagues. Again, that sounds not dissimilar to our
present condition.
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