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