Mention49428

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so:text How oft the word which we would gladly speak Might be, unto some darkly groping soul, The key to bid doubt's massive doors unroll, The free winds' breath upon the prisoner's cheek, Or. to the hungry heart, sweet pity's dole! We hurry on, nor know that they are near, As passed Evangeline the one so dear. (en)
so:isPartOf https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Julia_Abigail_Fletcher_Carney
qkg:hasContext qkg:Context24211
qkg:hasContext qkg:Context24210
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qkg:Quotation46135 qkg:hasMention
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