"Whenne that April with his showres sote
The drought of March, hath pierced to the rote,
And bathed every vein in such licour
Of which virtue engendered is the flower,"
a time of the year when
"Longer folk to go on pilgrimage,
And specially from every shire's end
Of Englande, to Canterbury they wend,
The holy, blissful martyr for to seek,
That them hath holpen, when that they were sick,"