Poetry
Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licóur
Of which vertú engendred is the flour;
The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue
-By Geoffrey Chaucer
When I was in college...
I had a class on The Canterbury Tales. I loved that class, it was taught by an old fashioned Sister of St. Joseph. She did not allow crossed legs in the classroom and required that we memorize at least two passages from the tales. She had said how sad a day when brūn became brown.
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