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 tangle 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!'