Saturday, May 17, 2008

Spring Again

Wesron wind, when wilt thou blow
That the small rain down can rain?
Christ, that my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!

Anonymous, 16th C.

Whan that April with his showres soote
The droughte of March hath perced to the roote

Geoffrey Chaucer, Prologue to
Canterbury Tales.

Spring Again

Whan that April, and all small rain
Showres soote again
Sifting softly down
Like fine dust of generations gone.

May 17, 2008


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