Into my heart an air that kills

I heard Hathaway recite this the other night on Inspector Lewis. Sounded familiar. A piece that really speaks to you, deep calling to deep (to channel Wooster). And for me, memories of Pakistan and North Carolina.

Into my heart an air that kills

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.

A. E. Housman

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