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- Стр. 198/1366
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Commended
unto
thee
be
my
Tesoro
,
In
which
I
still
live
,
and
no
more
I
ask
.
"
Then
he
turned
round
,
and
seemed
to
be
of
those
Who
at
Verona
run
for
the
Green
Mantle
Across
the
plain
;
and
seemed
to
be
among
them
The
one
who
wins
,
and
not
the
one
who
loses
.
Now
was
I
where
was
heard
the
reverberation
Of
water
falling
into
the
next
round
,
Like
to
that
humming
which
the
beehives
make
,
When
shadows
three
together
started
forth
,
