@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...A SPINSTER'S STINT by ALICE CARY COMMEMORATION ODE READ AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE WIND ON THE HILLS by DORA SIGERSON SHORTER I SIT AND LOOK OUT by WALT WHITMAN THE SOBBING OF THE BELLS (MIDNIGHT, SEPT. 19-20, 1881) by WALT WHITMAN OUT OF THE VAST by AUGUSTUS WRIGHT BAMBERGER FRAGMENTS OF A POEM ON THE EXCELLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY by JAMES HAY BEATTIE |