Full many a gem of purest ray serene
     The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
     And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast,
     The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
     Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood...

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
     Their sober wishes never learned to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
     They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

--- "Elegy Written in
A Country Churchyard"

Thomas Gray
1716 - 1771

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