Great God! I 'd rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn,

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Miscellaneous Sonnets. Part i. xxxiii.

Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,

The sun has left the lea.

The orange flower perfumes the bower,

The breeze is on the sea.

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Quentin Durward. Chap. iv.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,

The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 1.