A Dream

    O'er my Angel-guarded bed，

    That an emmet lost its way

    Where on grass methought I lay.

    Troubled， 'wilder'd， and forlorn，

    Dark， benighted¹， travel-worn，

    Over many a tangled² 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 dropp'd a tear；

    But I saw a glow-worm near，

    Who replied： `What wailing³ wight

    Calls the watchman of the night？

    `I am set to light the ground，

    While the beetle⁴ goes his round：

    Follow now the beetle's hum；

    Little wanderer， hie thee home.'