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.]