As with great heed I raised the latch.
The plain spread all around me soon,
Swathed and dim as in a swoon,
To eastward slipped a young pale moon.
And close at hand a crooked lane
’Twixt low thatched roofs all wet with rain,
Nought else only the silent plain.
Four women. Was it fear or cold
Made them so tremble? I grew bold
And swiftly had mine errand told.