The Beacon.
By Robert von Ranke Graves
The silent shepherdess,
She of my vows,
Here with me exchanging love
Under dim boughs.
Shines on our mysteries
A sudden spark,
"Dout the candle, glow-worm,
Let all be dark.
"The birds have sung their last notes,
The Sun's to bed,
Glow-worm, dout your candle."
The glow-worm said:
"I also am a lover;
The lamp I display
Is beacon for my true love
Wandering astray.
"Through the thick bushes
And the grass comes she
With a heartload of longing
And love for me.
"Sir, enjoy your fancy,
But spare me harm,
A lover is a lover,
Though but a worm."