Tome,  Livre, Comp.

1    1,     1,     VII| misère humaine,~ ~Frappe et console, va du zénith au nadir,~ ~
2    1,     3,     XVI|      que votre pensée aime, console, encense~ ~Ce sublime forçat
3    2,     2,    XXVI|    la blessure béante,~ ~Se console des clous en voyant le marteau.~ ~
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