Here bygynneth the Book of the tales of Caunt̉erbury."Chauc" written above the initial rubric
Whan that Aueryll wᵗith his shoures soote
The droghte of March / hath ꝑperced to the roote
And bathed euery veyne in swich lycour
Of which v̉ertu engendred is the flour
Whan zephirus eek wᵗith his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in euery holt and heeth
The tendre croppes / and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram / his half cours yronne
And smale foweles / maken melodye
That slepen al the nyght with open Iye
So priketh hem nature / in hir corages
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrymages
And Palmeres for to seeken straunge strondes
To ferne halwes / kouthe in sondry londes
And specially / from euery shyres ende
Of Engelond / to Caunterbury they wende
The holy blisful martir / for to seke
That hem hath holpen whan þᵗat they weere seeke
Bifel þᵗat in that sesoūn on a day
In Southwerk at the Tabard / as .I. lay
Redy to weenden / on my pilgrymage
To Caunterbury / with ful deuout corage
At nyght was come / in to that hostelrye
Wel .xxix. in a compaignye
Of sondry folk / by auenture yfalle
In felaweshipe / and pilgrymes weere they alle
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde
The chambres and the stables / weeren wyde
And wel we weeren esed / at the beste
And shortly whan the sonne was to reste
So hadde I spoken with hem euerichoon
That I was of hir felaweshipe anon