Poems of William Blake

 The little boy lost

 “Father, father, where are you going? 
   Oh do not walk so fast! 
 Speak, father, speak to your little boy,
   Or else I shall be lost.”

 The night was dark, no father was there,
   The child was wet with dew;
 The mire was deep, and the child did weep,
   And away the vapour flew.