The Poems of William Blake


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!"