UNTO an Image may I right compare
My Mistress, since so cruel She's to me:
Which standeth for a sign or shadow fair;
To which the simple ignorant bow with knee:
And though with eyes, mouth, ears, and feet it show;
Yet doth it neither see, talk, hear, or go.
So plays my Choice, when I appear in sight:
Nor see, nor speak, nor hear, nor stay She will.
So as an Idol, She resembleth right;
Blind, mute, deaf, moveless, senseless standing still.
Then am not I worse than a lifeless block;
To worship such a painted coloured stock.
_Fiorenza._