II.

Next unto this a statelie Towre appeared, 505 Built all of richest stone that might bee found, And nigh unto the heavens in height upreared, But placed on a plot of sandie ground: Not that great towre which is so much renownd For tongues confusion in Holie Writ, 510 King Ninus worke, might be compar’d to it.

But, O vaine labours of terrestriall wit, That buildes so stronglie on so frayle a soyle, As with each storme does fall away and flit, And gives the fruit of all your travailes toyle 515 To be the pray of Tyme, and Fortunes spoyle, I saw this towre fall sodainlie to dust, That nigh with griefe thereof my heart was brust.