T his the exulting city that is dwelling confidently, That is saying in her heart, `I, and beside me there is none,' How hath she been for a desolation, A crouching-place for beasts, Every one passing by her doth hiss, He doth shake his hand!
This the exulting city that is dwelling confidently, That is saying in her heart, `I, and beside me there is none,' How hath she been for a desolation, A crouching-place for beasts, Every one passing by her doth hiss, He doth shake his hand!
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