Now welcome, somer, with thy sonne soft{.e}, That hast this wintr{.e}s wedr{.e}s overshak{.e}, And driven away the long{.e} nyght{.e}s blak{.e}! Saynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on-lofte, Thus syngen smal{.e} foul{.e}s for thy sak{.e}: Now welcome, somer, with thy sonn{.e} soft{.e}, That hast this wintr{.e}s wedr{.e}s overshak{.e}. Wel han they caus{.e} for to gladen oft{.e}, Sith ech of hem recover{.e}d hath hys mak{.e}; Ful blissful mowe they syng{.e} when they wak{.e}: Now welcome, somer, with thy sonn{.e} soft{.e} That hast this wintr{.e}s wedr{.e}s overshak{.e} And driven away the long{.e} nyght{.e}s blak{.e}!
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Geoffrey Chaucer
Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1340s – 25 October 1400) was an English poet and author. Widely considered the greatest English poet of the Middle Ages, he…
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Smtym th wrl was s stfast an That manns wr was bligaiun, An nw it is s fals an That wr an , as in nlusiun,…
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