"Whannè that April with his shourès sote
The droughte of March hath perced to the rote,
And bathed every veine in swiche licour,
Of whiche vertue engendered is the flour;
When Zephyrus eke with his sotè brethe,
Enspired hath in every holt and hethe
The tendre croppès, and the yongè sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfè cours yronne,
And smalè foulès maken melodie,
That slepen allè night with open eye,
So priketh hem nature in hire corages;
Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken strangè strondes,
To servè halwes couthe in sondry londes," &c.