Lost Chaucer Poem Rediscovered

Whilst researching for my dissertation I've uncovered, in a dusty old poetry collection on the shelves at the Albert Sloman Library at Essex University, a long forgotten Chaucer poem. Really exciting and surprisingly topical. Seems life wasn't much different in Medieval England than it is now!

Snowwe

Walkyng along these frozen streetes,
myne feete doth ayche, myne bownes doth creeke.

Ey canethnot feele myne fyngers or towes,
icicles hangeth from myne nose.

Ey feeles so saddeth ey wannte to crie,
amongst a charnel howse to lye.

Twas happenstance that ey didde fynd,
summe nectar forre myne troubled mynd.

Nothing doth mayke a sadde harte glowe,
than a cocke and balles drawyn inn thee snowwe.

Geoffrey Chaucer 1369

Ding dong Verity is high

To be sung loudly and with good cheer.

Ding dong Verity is high

On fumes of sherry trifle,

Her vajazzle’s gone awry

The lodger got an eyeful.

Poor Gloria, her spanner is at Chelsea’s!

Dean’s got blisters down below

He’s rather well hungen,

He gave a latex doll a go

Then the rash begunen.

Poor Gloria, her spanner is at Chelsea’s!

In church of a Christmastime

Those lusty loud bellringers,

When they’ve dutifully chimed

They’re a bunch of swingers.

Poor Gloria, her spanner is at Chelsea’s!

Poor Gloria, her spanner is at Chelsea’s!

Her spanner is at Chelsea’s!!!

A very merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year filled with light and love and peace and joy to you all.