Some two miles farther to some resting place:
At last I spied a meadow newly mowed,
The hay was rotten, the ground half o'erflowed:
We made a breach, and entered horse and man,
There our pavilion, we to pitch began,
Which we erected with green broom and hay,
To expel the cold, and keep the rain away;
The sky all muffled in a cloud 'gan lower,
And presently there fell a mighty shower,
Which without intermission down did pour,