"Once a dream did weave a shade"
di William Blake (1757-1827)

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!"