| INTO my heart on 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, | 5 |
| I see it shining plain, | |
| The happy highways where I went | |
| And cannot come again. | |
| INTO my heart on 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, | 5 |
| I see it shining plain, | |
| The happy highways where I went | |
| And cannot come again. | |
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