Gawain 785 - 810, The castle, apparently, is pretty great.

The kings sister-son on the mares son remained
By the deep double-ditch that defended the place;
It's side slashed into the moat-stream, superbly deep,
And a full-huge height it haled overloft,
Of hard hewn stone up to the parapets,
Enboldened under the battlements, by builders law;
And several garrets full gay geared between,
With many lovely loopholes that locked full-clean:
A keener keep that knight had never come upon.
And even now, he beheld that hall full high,
Towers like a tridents tines rising full strong,
Fair fastnesses fitting neatly, fearsomly long,
With carved tower-crowns craftily set.
Chalk-white chimneys there he espyed
Upon gabled roofs, that gleamed full-white;
So many painted pinnacles were pitched everywhere,
Among the castle cornices clustered so thick,
That pared out of paper purely it seemed.
The foal's fine fellow it fair enough thought,
If he might contrive to come the cloister within,
To harbor in that hostel while Christs day kept
          it's warrant.
He called, and soon there came
A porter pure pleasant,
From the wall asked his name,
And hailed the knight errant.