Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Chaucer lyrics

An old man in a lodge within a park;   The chamber walls depicted all around   With portraitures of huntsman, hawk, and hound.   And the hurt deer. He listeneth to the lark, Whose song comes with the sunshine through the dark   Of painted gla** in leaden lattice bound;   He listeneth and he laugheth at the sound,   Then writeth in a book like any clerk. He is the poet of the dawn, who wrote   The Canterbury Tales, and his old age   Made beautiful with song; and as I read I hear the crowing co*k, I hear the note   Of lark and linnet, and from every page   Rise odors of ploughed field or flowery mead.