“Modred, whose magic song
“Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topp’d head.
“On dreary Arvon’s shore they lie,
“Smear’d with gore, and ghastly pale:
“Far, far aloof th’ affrighted ravens sail;
“The famish’d Eagle screams, and passes by
“Dear lost companions of my tuneful art,
“Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes
“Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart,
“Ye died amidst your dying country’s cries—