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,'wilder'd, 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 drop'd 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