Hills of Annesley, Bleak and Barren,
Where my thoughtless Childhood stray’d,
How the northern Tempests, warring,
Howl above thy tufted Shade!
Now no more, the Hours beguiling,
Former favourite Haunts I see;
Now no more my Mary smiling,
Makes ye seem a Heaven to Me.
Scenes of woe and Scenes of pleasure
Scenes that former thoughts renew
Scenes of woe and scenes of pleasure
Now a sad and last adieu, etc.
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