Here you will find the Poem Sonnet LVIII. The Glow-Worm of poet Charlotte Smith
WHEN on some balmy-breathing night of Spring The happy child, to whom the world is new, Pursues the evening moth, of mealy wing, Or from the heath-bell beats the sparkling dew; He sees before his inexperienced eyes The brilliant Glow-worm, like a meteor, shine On the turf-bank;--amazed, and pleased, he cries, 'Star of the dewy grass!--I make thee mine!'-- Then, ere he sleep, collects 'the moisten'd' flower, And bids soft leaves his glittering prize enfold, And dreams that Fairy-lamps illume his bower: Yet with the morning shudders to behold His lucid treasure, rayless as the dust! --So turn the world's bright joys to cold and blank disgust.