Chapter 1 No.1

I saw an Image, all of massie gold,

Placed on high upon an altare faire,

That all which did the same from farre beholde

Might worship it, and fall on lowest staire.

Not that great idoll might with this compaire, 495

To which th'Assyrian tyrant would have made

The holie brethren falslie to have praid.

But th'altare on the which this image staid

Was (O great pitie!) built of brickle* clay,

That shortly the foundation decaid, 500

With showres of heaven and tempests worne away;

Then downe it fell, and low in ashes lay,

Scorned of everie one which by it went;

That I, it seing, dearelie did lament.

[* Brickle, brittle.]