The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer

[“The chamber, like all the other parts of the house, had a look of sadness and neglect; the flower-pots under the window, which once bloomed beneath the hand of Mary Chaworth, were overrun with weeds; and the piano which had once vibrated to her touch, and thrilled the heart of her stripling lover, was now unstrung and out of tune.”]—

Irving.

With pale, high brow Childe Harold oft
To this neglected chamber came,
And heard, in accents low and soft,
His first love syllable his name.

Beneath yon window, pots of flowers
Untended give their sweets to air,
That well repaid, in former hours,
With blush and fragrancy her care.

Yon instrument, unstrung and still,
Will chime no more with warbled words;
Her hand hath lost the witching skill
To wake its passion-breathing chords.

Where gifted Harold stood, I stand,
And view bright walks extending wide,
Where oft he wandered, hand-in-hand,
With her who should have been his bride.

And eloquence that hath no tongue,
Is breathing from yon antique wall,
For often hath it sweetly rung
With her light step and gleesome call.

The Poet-Lord of Newstead here
Drank love undying from her gaze—
Love that, in many an after year,
Gave mournful sweetness to his lays.

Where are they now?—the bard is tost
No longer on a stormy sea;
And death conceals, in hall of frost,
His “Morning Star of Annesley.”

Byron's name for Mary Chaworth.

University of Virginia Library

THE MORNING STAR OF ANNESLEY.