Mr Plague began his European Tour,

With intriguing new places to explore,

Reaching the town of Stratford

In the Summer of 1564.

 

Three hundred were killed, in no time at all.

The town was laid low, in dire dejection.

No one knew where his axe might fall.

Doctors were helpless. They couldn’t do more,

So fearful were they of this dread infection!

 

Should we castigate this evil man,

And wonder what God sent him for?

Or, gratefully, thank the Angel of Death,

For declining to knock at Shakespeare’s door?

 

Mr Plague was stalking in the dead of night,

This is a twist of fate, rich in irony,

When Plague turned left instead of right,

He freely extended Life’s Lease to thee.

Plague missed you out, setting genius free,

Passing your Wisdom down, to all humanity.