_Whan that Apreele with 'is shoores sohte_

The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote,
_The drooth of March hath paarced to the rohte_

And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
_And bahthed ev'ree vyne in swech lecoor,_

Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
_Of whech varetu engendred is the floor;_

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
_Whan Zephirus aik with 'is swaite braith_

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
_Inspeered hath in ev'ree holt and haith_

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
_The tendre croopes, and th' yoonge sonne_

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,
_Hath in the Ram 'is hawfe coors ironne,_

And smale fowles maken melodye,
_And smawle fooles mahken malyodiee,_

That slepen al the night with open ye
_That slaipen awl the nicht with open ee_

(So priketh hem nature in hir corages)