The warders now the outer portals lock,
And deepest stillness marks th’ approach of night,
Save when the watchman calls “Past ten o’clock.”
Save, also, when from yonder antique tower[143];
With solemn sound, the bell strikes on the ear,
And wand’ring damsels, as they hear the hour,
Trip through the gloomy courts with haste and fear.
In those high rooms, where clients ne’er intrude,
And here and there a light doth dimly peep,
Each in his lonely set of chambers mewed,