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Lost content Print E-mail
By A.E. Housman   
Wednesday, 01 February 2012

Into my heart an air that kills
 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.

 

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