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- Стр. 102/1366
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Made
of
him
by
the
people
of
the
mire
,
That
still
I
praise
and
thank
my
God
for
it
.
They
all
were
shouting
,
"
At
Philippo
Argenti
!
"
And
that
exasperate
spirit
Florentine
Turned
round
upon
himself
with
his
own
teeth
.
We
left
him
there
,
and
more
of
him
I
tell
not
;
But
on
mine
ears
there
smote
a
lamentation
,
Whence
forward
I
intent
unbar
mine
eyes
.
And
the
good
Master
said
:
"
Even
now
,
my
Son
,
The
city
draweth
near
whose
name
is
Dis
,
