Mention73454
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so:text | This is a haunted world. It hath no breeze But is the echo of some voice beloved: Its pines have human tones; its billows wear The color and the sparkle of dear eyes. Its flowers are sweet with touch of tender hands That once clasped ours. All things are beautiful Because of something lovelier than themselves, Which breathes within them, and will never die. — Haunted,—but not with any spectral gloom; Earth is suffused, inhabited by heaven. (en) |
so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Lucy_Larcom |
so:description | Poems (1869) (en) |
qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context35906 |
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Triples where Mention73454 is the object (without rdf:type)
qkg:Quotation68660 | qkg:hasMention |
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