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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.
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   Paul and Gamsiz
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