Taddeo Gaddi built me. I am old, br Five centuries old. I plant my foot of stone br Upon the Arno, as St. Michael's own br Was planted on the dragon. Fold by fold br Beneath me as it struggles. I behold br Its glistening scales. Twice hath it overthrown br My kindred and companions. Me alone br It moveth not, but is by me controlled. br I can remember when the Medici br Were driven from Florence; longer still ago br The final wars of Ghibelline and Guelf. br Florence adorns me with her jewelry; br And when I think that Michael Angelo br Hath leaned on me, I glory in myself.