XXXIV
Then the athel hoves and halts on the bank Of the double ditch that engirdled that dwelling; Wonderly deep stood the wall in water, And a huge height also it heav’d up aloft Of hard hewn stone úp to the cornice, Emban’d under battlement in the bést wìse; Garrets full gay were gear’d thereover. With many a lovely casement that closèd full clean; A better barbican that bearn never saw. Further in, full high the hall he beheld, With turrets atop all cuspèd and tined, Crown’d with capitals craftily taper’d, And carven finials curiously chisel’d. There were chalk-white chimneys, the choicest of art, That blink’d all bright on the bastel roof; And painted pinnacles upon it were sprinkled, Amid the crenellations cluster’d so thick, They seem’d pared out of paper, a palace of fäerie. To that free on the foal ’twas a fáir sìght; Coúld he but compass, that cloister within, In hostel to harbour, while holiday lasted in hall! He call’d, and soon appear’d A porter at his call, Kindly his errand heard And hail’d him, from the wall.