But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll; Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, And froze the geni… - Thomas Gray

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,/
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,/
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,/
And leaves the world to darkness and to me./

In glittering arms and glory dressed, High he rears his ruby crest. There the thundering strokes begin, There the press and there the din; Talymalfra's rocky shore Echoing to the battle's roar.

Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear; They breathe a soul to animate thy clay. Bright Rapture calls, and soaring, as she sings, Waves in the eye of Heav'n her many-colour'd wings.