Melcombe Regis
(Now Weymouth)
In my dreams
I see thee for thou art always in my
My heart and in all of my existence!.
I feel thy sweet breath upon my face,
The touch of thy lips as they brush
Mine arousing me to exquisite
Pleasures far beyond that of other
Mortals!. On our own cloistered
Mossy bed I lie where we loved and
Laughed and expressed our feelings as
All young lovers did!. While above us
The arched limbs of stately trees gently
Caressed us with dappled shadows as if to
Hide from prying eyes our innocent nakedness!.
But thou were taken from me when but
Seventeen years in the year of our Lord
Thirteen forty nine!. It seemed the disease
Which moved across the land chose thee
Because of thy beauty, for that which is
Of itself loathing to the sight takes that
Which it cannot be!. Black was the death,
And that it remained while it lived taking
Unto its bosom many of the beautiful
Children of the land!.
I know not where thou art at rest, for many
Were taken during the darkness of night and
Laid to rest in some unbeknown place!.
Still the cry of “Bring out your Dead,
Bring out your dead” echo's through
The sorrowing streets of Melcombe Regis!.
Bubonic Plague
In October of 1347, several Italian merchant ships returned from a trip out on the Black Sea a major trading route and main link to China!. A ship docked in Sicily with most of the crew already dying, and the disease spread throughout the city within days!. By August of 1348, it spread to England where it was named the Black Death mainly because of the black spots created on the skin!.
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