A Dream

Once a dream did weave a shade 
O’er my angel-guarded bed, 
That an emmet lost its way 
Where on grass methought I lay. 

Troubled, wildered, and forlorn, 
Dark, benighted, travel-worn, 
Over many a tangled spray, 
All heart-broke, I heard her say: 

‘O my children! do they cry, 
Do they hear their father sigh? 
Now they look abroad to see, 
Now return and weep for me.’ 

Pitying, I dropped a tear: 
But I saw a glow-worm near, 
Who replied, ‘What wailing wight 
Calls the watchman of the night?’ 

‘I am set to light the ground, 
While the beetle goes his round: 
Follow now the beetle’s hum; 
Little wanderer, hie thee home!’