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.
George Gordon Byron
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/written-shortly-after-the-marriage-of-miss-chaworth/
