Mention871741
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| so:text | My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/John_Keats |
| so:description | Poems (1820) (en) |
| so:description | Ode to a Nightingale (en) |
| qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context429869 |
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Triples where Mention871741 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation826031 | qkg:hasMention |
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