Mention428810

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so:text The people bend before me. I turn the battle in the field of the brave. I look on the nations, and they vanish: my nostrils pour the blast of death. I come abroad on the winds: the tempests are before my face. But my dwelling is calm, above the clouds; the fields of my rest are pleasant. (en)
so:isPartOf https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/James_Macpherson
so:description The Poems of Ossian (en)
qkg:hasContext qkg:Context210895
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qkg:Quotation406030 qkg:hasMention
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