Beneath this hedge, or near the stream,
A worm is known to stray,
That shows by night a lucid stream
That disappears by day.
Disputes have been, and still prevail,
From whence his rays proceed;
Some give the honor to his tail,
And others to his head;
But this is sure--the hand of might
That kindles up the skies,
Gives him a modicum of light,
Proportion'd to his size.
Perhaps indulgent Nature meant,
By such a lamp bestow'd,
To bid the traveller as he went,
Be careful where he trod.