From “The Canterbury Pilgrims: The Knightes Tale”
THE BUSY 1 larke, messager of daye,
Salueth in hire song the morwe graye;
And fyry Phebus ryseth up so brighte,
That al the orient laugheth of the lighte,
And with his stremes dryeth in the greves 2
The silver dropes, hongyng on the leeves.
And Arcite, that is in the court ryal
...
From the “Legend of Good Women”
OF all the floures in the mede,
Than love I most these floures white and rede,
Soch that men callen daisies in our town;
To hem I have so great affection,
As I said erst, when comen is the May,
That in my bedde there daweth me no day
That I nam 1 up and walking in the mede,
To seene this flour...
From “The Canterbury Tales: Prologue”
WHAN that Aprille with hise shourès soote 1
The droghte of March hath percèd to the roote,
And bathèd every veyne in swich 2 licour,
Of which vertue engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
Inspirèd hath in every holt 3 and heeth
The tendre croppès, and the yongè sonne
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