Moonset on the Meseta

Moonset on the Meseta

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

"Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote..."

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour; 
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale fowles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende Of Engelond
to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

Beginning of the "Prologue" to Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales."
Was it the esteemed Miss Dwyer who had us memorize this in senior English class?
For those who have forgotten their Middle English, see notes here.

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