Mention620765
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| so:text | With blackest moss the flower plots Were thickly crusted, one and all; The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable wall. The broken sheds looked sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!' (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Alfred,_Lord_Tennyson |
| qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context305589 |
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Triples where Mention620765 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation588517 | qkg:hasMention |
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