Fair April
When April with his showers sweet with fruit
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower;
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower;
Strange, Chaucer didn't mention the annual Yellow Plague... but the sweet April showers have certainly created plenty of newly sprung flowers in this giant field of Rape seed.
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