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!'