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reflecting sunset over a large lake with a single swan swimmingPerhaps they are not stars but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones shines down to let us know they are happy

England

England - A.E. Housman

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remember'd 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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