Into my heart an air that kills
A. E. Housman
A. E. Housman
Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those?
A. E. Housman
What thoughts at heart have you and I
A. E. Housman
What thoughts at heart have you and I We cannot stop to tell; But dead or living, drunk or dry, Soldier, I wish you well.
A. E. Housman