Practice Typing

Arise, my master cried, upon thy feet. The way is long, and much uncouth the road; And now within one hour and half of noon The sun returns. It was no palace hall Lofty and luminous wherein we stood, But natural dungeon where ill footing was And scant supply of light. Ere from th abyss I seprate, thus when risen I began, My guide. vouchsafe few words to set me free From errors thralldom. Where is now the ice.