Mention488771
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so:text | We weep before the Blessed Mother's shrine, To think upon her sorrows, but her joys What nun could ever know a tithing of? The precious hours she watched above His sleep Were worth the fearful anguish of the end. Yea, lack of love is bitterest of all. (en) |
so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Sara_Teasdale |
so:description | Helen of Troy and Other Poems (1911) (en) |
qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context241140 |
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Triples where Mention488771 is the object (without rdf:type)
qkg:Quotation463290 | qkg:hasMention |
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