For Lemmy, the “naked savage, in the thunder shower,” this is Wordsworth.
There, as I ranged at will the pastoral downs/ Trackless and smooth, or paced the bare white roads/ Lengthening in solitude their dreary line,/ Time with this retinue of ages fled/ Backwards, nor checked his flight until I saw/ Our dim ancestral Past in vision clear;/ Saw multitudes of men, and, here and there,/ A single Briton clothed in wolf-skin vest,/ With shield and stone-axe, stride across the world;/ The voice of spears was heard, the rattling spear/ Shaken by arms of mighty bone, in strength,/ Long moldered, of barbaric majesty. I called on Darkness.
from The Prelude by William Wordsworth
Ian Fraser “Lemmy” Kilmister, Killed by Death, 1945-2015.