"The Canterbury Tales" by Geoffrey Chaucer, Introduction to the Man of Law's Tale

Our Host perceived the sun upon its arc
Of artificial day (from dawn to dark)
Quarter way up plus half an hour or more;
And though not deeply versed in heavenly lore
He knew quite well it was the eighteenth day
Of April that is messenger to May

I would inform the rout
A quarter of the day’s already gone.

My lords, time wastes itself by night and day,
Steals from us secretly, sleep or waking,
If we are negligent.

Let us not moulder here in idleness

Acquit yourself! You promised so for one,
And then at least your duty will be done.

Our text demands it; but I make avow
I can’t recall a pithy tale just now

But Chaucer, clumsy as he is at times
In metre and the cunning use of rhymes,
Has told them in such English, I suppose

He has told more of lovers up and down
Than even Ovid honoured with renown
In his Epistles, which are very old.

And there you may perceive how Chaucer paints
Lucrece and her wide wounds, and Thisbe gored
In Babylon, and Dido’s faithful sword
Because of false Aeneas, or may view
The fate of Phyllis that was hapless too,
Turned to a tree for love of Demophon.

But Chaucer knew quite well what he was doing
And would not soil his sermons with narration
Of such unnatural abomination.