This page has been validated.
A Shropshire Lad
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge.
That will not shower on me.
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge.
That will not shower on me.
❦
XL
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.
❦
57
