New poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now let's away to Canterbury!
The bells ring out both blithe and merry—
A ring of bells of blue and white
And rosy pink doth us invite
To fare to Canterbury!

Now come, good pilgrims, as ye use,
Nor wear the peasen in your shoes,
For here's a merry pilgrimage
For young and old and fool and sage—
A-foot to Canterbury!

Now o'er the Pilgrim's way doth swing
The moon of Mary in a ring
Of stars; and every hill and vale
Is throbbing to the nightingale.
Come, let's to Canterbury!

The may-thorn makes a moon in shade
For many a lover, many a maid;
The wild thyme now the foot doth press;
The nests have a wild business
On the road to Canterbury!

There's lilac in the garden-bower,
The gold chain shakes a golden shower,
The honeysuckle's honeyed now,
Syringa's out on the high bough—
The way to Canterbury!

Yet in this hour with joy at flood
Let's think upon the Saint whose blood
Sowed martyr's seed, that so he keep
Us harmless while we wake and sleep—
Pilgrims to Canterbury!

Was ever a kinder Saint than this,
Who hath his bells of fine lilies,
That, ringing in the sweet o' the year,
Bid all good Christian folk give ear—
And who's for Canterbury?