@2C@1HAUCER, kind heart, who with the score and ten Laughed your long way through Kent's a-greening fields, So mild, my gentleman! yet your arch pen Its ancient freshness yields; Life was to you no dreary heaviness, No, nor a fretting puzzle for the mind; You saw the best and worst, and both would bless, For both were of mankind. The "smale fowles" lusty would be singing, The summoner his "stif burdoun" would bear, But in your poet-soul the music ringing Was sure the sweetest there. Maister of words, and lover of the human, Refresh us ever with your vernal prime; A tonic draught for us, or man or woman— Your frank and winsome rhyme! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LISBON PACKET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TASTE, AN EPISTLE TO A YOUNG CRITIC by JOHN ARMSTRONG SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS by EDWIN ARNOLD LINES TO A LADY by DJUNA BARNES SOUNDS OF THE CITY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |