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William Blake
2007/12/19 17:10
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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, 'wilder'd, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broken 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 drop'd 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.''


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