A Shropshire Lad/Into my heart an air that kills
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Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
❦