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!'