Speaking of the poetry of A.E. Housman, here's an old melancholy favorite for a gray October day in the haunted countryside of Greene County, PA:
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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