Poems of William Blake

 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 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!”