Geoffrey Chaucer

Ther was also a nonne, a prioresse.

Hir gretteste ooth was but by Seinte Loy.

And she was cleped madame Eglentyne.

Ful wel she soong the service divyne.

To speken of phisik and of surgerye.

For gold in phisik is a cordial, Therefore he lovede gold in special.

A good felawe was he, and a joly.

Wel koude he knowe a draughte of London ale.

He was a marchant with a forked berd.

An outridere, that loved venerie.

A clerk of the Chapels of oure lady.

With grene tree. I mene, of course, the pole.

That highte Malle, Ful wel she soong the service divyne.

A shipman was ther, woning fer by weste.

Of nice conscience took he no keep.

If that he faught and hadde the hyer hond, By water he sente hem hoom to every lond.

But of his craft to rekene wel his tydes.