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!’
