Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
When 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:
"Oh, 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!"