Mention300819
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so:text | Time found our tired love sleeping, And kissed away his breath; But what should we do weeping, Though light love sleep to death? We have drained his lips at leisure, Till there's not left to drain A single sob of pleasure, A single pulse of pain. (en) |
so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Algernon_Charles_Swinburne |
so:description | Poems and Ballads (1866-89) (en) |
qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context148024 |
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Triples where Mention300819 is the object (without rdf:type)
qkg:Quotation283879 | qkg:hasMention |
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