Though Rabican's good paces merit praise,

  To hurry him the damsel had no skill,

  By those so passing foul and broken ways,

  (By season somewhat rainy rendered ill)

  So, as to reach the tower, ere Night o'erlays

  The world, whose every nook dark shadows fill.

  Arrived, that lady finds the portal barred,

  And that she seeks a lodging tells the guard.