When that Aprilis, with his showers swoot, 1 The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every vein in such licĂłur, Of which virtĂșe engenderâd is the flower; When Zephyrus eke with his swootĂ« breath Inspired hath in every holt 2 and heath The tender croppĂ«s, 3 and the youngĂ« sun Hath in the Ram 4 his halfĂ« course y-run, And smallĂ« fowlĂ«s makĂ« melody, That sleepen all the night with open eye, (So pricketh them natĂșre in their corĂĄges 5 ); Then longĂ« folk to go on pilgrimages, And palmers 6 for to seekĂ« strangĂ« strands,
The Prologue
3