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Jane E Ferrie, Cholera, John Snow and the 2013 bicentennial meetings at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, UK, International Journal of Epidemiology, Volume 41, Issue 6, December 2012, Pages 1501–1502, https://doi.org/10.1093/ije/dys225
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Extract
Chaunt of the Cholera (selected verses)1
John Banim (1798–1842 Ireland)
From my proper clime and subjects,
In my hot and swarthy East,
North and Westward I am coming
For a conquest and a feast—
And I come not until challenged,
Through your chilly lands to roam!
As a bride ye march'd to woo me,
And in triumph led me home!
He hears them onward tramping
To the tramp of other feet—
He hears the hostile shouting
Of the armies ere they meet—
Hush!—at one side and the other,
They are silent—and they stop—
An unseen hand hath touch'd them!
Down their weapons drop!
And they reel about like drunkards,
Or infants in their play,
And they fall, convulsed and bloated,
And blind to the bright day—
And in heaps they stir and struggle,
Until at last all lie
Dead, by the noble river
Which lonesomely runs by!
The hour of shrieks! the frantic!
He swells above your head!
Ye feel him! though he spareth
As yet to strike ye dead!
He tortures ye! he blisters!
The blood within your veins
Is boiling! and all verdure
Turns red upon your plains!
And in crowds ye go together—
All ye I may have spared—
The king, uncrown'd—the captain
Ungirded—not unsear'd—
The mean and ragged cripple—
The foolish and the wise—
The strong man, and the weak one
Who did never win a prize—–
With lolling tongues ye hoarsely
Cry out, and curse or pray—
Kneel down! kneel down! and wisely
Dream on of such a day!
And what though I should smite ye
Before it come so near—
Ho! were it not in mercy,
To make ye love or fear!