'Twas here the wishful knight first checked the rein, And dropping in the meadow, made his steed Furl, yet not shut so close, his wings again, As he had spread them wide for better speed.
Down lights Rogero, and forbears with pain From other leap; but this his arms impede:
His arms impede; a bar to his desire, And he must doff them would he slake the fire.
