Which brought me to an herber fair and grene,
Mad with benches, ful craftily and clene,
50
That, as me thought, ther might no crëature
Devyse a better, by dew proporcioun;
Safe it was closed wel, I you ensure,
With masonry of compas enviroun,
Ful secretly, with stayres going doun
55
Inmiddes the place, with turning wheel, certayn;