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In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne,
I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were,
In habite as an heremite unholy of werkes,
Wente wide in this world wondres to here.
Ac on a May morwenynge on Malverne hilles
Me bifel a ferly, of Fairye me thoghte.
--
B-text, Prologue, line 1

 

William Langland

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Worschippe, ye that loveris bene this May,
For of your blisse the kalendis are begonne,
And sing with us, “away, winter, away!
Cum, somer, cum, the suete sesoun and sonne!”

 

James I of Scotland

 

Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swych licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(So priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages.

 

Geoffrey Chaucer

 

Buck 60 on the dash, Imma to do two. Captain Crunch these niggas is Froot Loop. That's why your girl wanna f**k me and my group too. And Imma make her back it up like shoop shoop. I'm the Birdman Junior I gotta do Coups. I hop out that mother f**ker hollering 'Soo Woo!'

 

Lil Wayne

 

I have herd cownted, whan I was zong; how a worthi man departed somtyme from oure Contrees, for to go serche the World. And so he passed Ynde, and the Yles bezonde Ynde, where ben mo than 5000 Yles: and so longe he wente be See and Lond, and so enviround the World be many seysons, that he fond an Yle, where he herde speke his owne Langage, callynge on Oxen in the Plowghe, suche Wordes as men speken to Bestes in his owne Contree: whereof he hadde gret Mervayle: for he knewe not how it myghte be. But I seye, that he had gon so longe, be Londe and be See, that he had envyround alle the Erthe, that he was comen azen envirounynge, that is to seye, goynge aboute, unto his owne Marches, zif he wolde have passed forthe, till he had founden his Contree and his owne knouleche. But he turned azen from thens, from whens he was come fro.

 

John Mandeville

 

Not from the whole wide world I chose thee,
Sweetheart, light of the land and the sea!
The wide, wide world could not inclose thee,
For thou art the whole wide world to me.

 

Richard Watson Gilder