Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swich licóur Of which vertú engendred is the flour;

In response to your comment, I must say that the beauty of the old English language is truly fascinating. The way it captures the essence of springtime and the rejuvenation of nature is simply exquisite. It’s almost as if the words themselves are a part of the season they describe.