The Our Father


Pronunciation Guide

Audio Samples


Caedmon's Hymn

Libravox reading

Read by J. B. Bessinger, Jr.

Nu sculon herigean

heofonrices weard,

meotodes meahte

and his modgeþanc,

weorc wuldorfæder,

swa he wundra gehwæs,

ece drihten,

or onstealde.

He ærest sceop

eorðan bearnum

heofon to hrofe,

halig scyppend;

þa middangeard

moncynnes weard,

ece drihten,

æfter teode

firum foldan,

frea ælmihtig.



Canterbury Tales Prologue - lines 1–18

Version 1

Version 2

  Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
  The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
  And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
  Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
5 Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
  Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
  The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
  Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
  And smale foweles maken melodye,
10 That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
  (So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
  Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
  And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
  To ferne halweskowthe in sondry londes;
15 And specially from every shires ende
  Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
  The hooly blisful martir for to seke
  That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.


"The General Prologue" (lines 547-68)

   The MILLERE was a stout carl for the nones;
  Ful byg he was of brawn and eek of bones-
  That proved wel, for over al ther he cam
550 At wrastlynge he wolde have alwey the ram.
  He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre,
  Ther was no dore that he nolde heve of harre,
  Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
  His berd as any sowe or fox was reed,
555 And therto brood, as though it were a spade.
  Upon the cop right of his nose he hade
  werte, and thereon stood a toft of herys,
  Reed as the brustles of a sowes erys;
  Hise nosethirles blake were and wyde.
560 swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde.
  His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys.
  He was a janglere and a goliardeys,
  And that was moost of synne and harlotries.
  Wel koude he stelen corn, and tollen thries;
565 And yet he hadde a thombe of gold, pardee.
  A whit cote and a blew hood wered he.
  A baggepipe wel koude he blowe and sowne,
  And therwithal he broghte us out of towne.


The Cuckoo's Song (c. 1225)

Music version - Summer is icumen in

Fowls in the Frith

I Sing of a Maiden

Western Wind