Mention956150
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| so:text | Not that I rise against thee, Poetry, Mother of Beauty, of ideal Life! But I must pity him condemned to dwell Within the limits of these whirling worlds In dying agonies, or yet to be, Doomed to sad memories, or prophecies, Perchance remorse, or vague resentiments,— Who gives himself to thee! for everywhere Thou ruinest wholly those who consecrate Themselves, with all they are, to thee alone, Who solely live the voices of thy glory! (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Zygmunt_Krasi%C5%84ski |
| so:description | The Undivine Comedy (1833) (en) |
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Triples where Mention956150 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation905616 | qkg:hasMention |
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