Matthew(i)
11 Thy pompe and thy pryde is gone doune to hell. Mothes shalbe layde vnder the, and wormes shalbe thy coueringe.
12 How art thou fallen from heauen (O Lucifer) thou faire mornyng childe? hast thou gotten a fal euen to the ground, thou that (not withstanding) diddest subdue the people.
13 And yet thou thoughtest in thyne herte: I wyll climme vp into heauen, and make my seate aboue the starres of God, I wyl syt vpon the glorious mounte toward the North,
14 I wyll climme vp aboue the cloudes, and wylbe like the hyghest of all.
15 Yet darre I saye, that thou shalt be brought doune to the depe of hel.
16 They that se the, shal narowly loke vpon the, and thinke in them selues, sayenge: Is thys the man, that brought all landes in feare, and made the kyngedomes afrayde.
17 Is this he that made the worlde in a maner waste, and layde the cytyes to the grounde, whyche let not his prisoners go home?
18 How happeneth it, that the kynges of all people lye, euery one at home in his owne palace, with worshyppe,
19 and thou art cast oute of thy graue, like a wild braunch: like as dead mens raiment that are shot thorow wyth the swerde: as they that go doune to the stones of the depe, as a deade coarse that is troden vnder fete: