Mention135692

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so:text 'Now it is turning into words again — faint but clear — Lest the awe should dwell — And turn your frolic to fret — You shall look on my power at the helping hour — But then you shall forget! Now the reeds take it up — forget, forget, they sigh, and it dies away in a rustle and a whisper. Then the voice returns — 'Lest limbs be reddened and rent — I spring the trap that is set — As I loose the snare you may glimpse me there — For surely you shall forget! Row nearer, Mole, nearer to the reeds! It is hard to catch, and grows each minute fainter. 'Helper and healer, I cheer — Small waifs in the woodland wet — Strays I find in it, wounds I bind in it — Bidding them all forget! (en)
so:isPartOf https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Kenneth_Grahame
so:description The Wind in the Willows (1908) (en)
qkg:hasContext qkg:Context66453
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qkg:Quotation126975 qkg:hasMention
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