And lank, spare frame, seemed pinched by hunger blue:
Torn filthy rags he wore, that seemed to shew
The utmost want; for though he stole away
The wealth of thousands, yet he never knew
A benefit therefrom, but let it lay
Deep in a vast dark pit, all buried from the day.
Soon as the knight had left his lady fair,
He swiftly thought, by necromantic skill,
To win her wealth; and it to slyly bear
Away with him that wicked pit to fill.