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."

William Blake