Mention630152
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| so:text | There is an indolence in grief Which will not even seek relief. What is the toil, or care, or pain, The human heart cannot sustain? Enough if struggling can create A change or colour in our fate; But where's the spirit that can cope With listless suffering, when hope, The last of misery's allies, Sickens of its sweet self, and dies. (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Letitia_Elizabeth_Landon |
| so:description | The Troubadour (1825) (en) |
| qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context310238 |
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Triples where Mention630152 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation597445 | qkg:hasMention |
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