Poem by Geoffrey Chaucer

Roundel

Now welcome Summer with thy sunne soft,
That hast this winter`s weathers overshake,
And driven away the longe nighties black.

Saint Valentine, that art full high aloft,
Thus singen smalle fowles for thy sake:
Now welcome Summer with tye sunne soft,
That hast this winter`s weathers overshake.

Well have they cause for to gladden oft,
Wince each of them recovered hath his make.
Full blissful may they singe when they wake:
Now welcome Summer with they sunne soft,
That has this winters weathers overshake,
And driven away the longe nighties black. 

1. Chaucer's Words to His Scrivener
2. Merciles Beaute
3. Gentilesse
4. To Rosemounde
5. Chaucer's Prophecy

Wilfred Owen Roundel ("In Shrewsbury Town e'en Hercules wox tired")

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