A bazillion cool points for whoever gets this. =]
"When that April with the shoures suta,
The drought of March hath perced to the ruta,
and bathed every vein in swich laqouer (sp?),
of which vertu engendered is the flour.
When zephirus eek with his sweaty breath,
Inspired hath in every holt and heth
the tender croppes, and the young sonne hath in the ram
his half corje-ronne, and smallen foul maken melodeya,
that slepen all the night with open ea.
So priketh hem nature, in hir corage,
THEN LONGEN FOLK TO GOON ON PILGRAMAGE."
-Canterbury Tales Prologue. =] From memory.