The Canterbury Pilgrims

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...

Poet: Geoffrey Chaucer
The Pilgrims and the Peas

A Brace of sinners, for no good,
  Were ordered to the Virgin Mary’s shrine,
Who at Loretto dwelt, in wax, stone, wood,
  And in a fair white wig looked wondrous fine.
Fifty long miles had those sad rogues to travel,
With something in their shoes much...

Poet: John Wolcot