V

It was a goodly heape for to behould, And spake the praises of the workmans wit; But full great pittie, that so faire a mould Did on so weake foundation ever sit: For on a sandie hill, that still did flit And fall away, it mounted was full hie, That every breath of heaven shaked it: And all the hinder parts, that few could spie, Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly.