The Little Girl Lost - By William Blake

In futurity
   I prophetic see
   That the earth from sleep
   (Grave the sentence deep)

   Shall arise, and seek
   for her Maker meek;
   And the desert wild
   Become a garden mild.

   In the southern clime,
   Where the summer's prime
   Never fades away,
   Lovely Lyca lay.

   Seven summers old
   Lovely Lyca told.
   She had wandered long,
   Hearing wild birds' song.

   "Sweet sleep, come to me
   Underneath this tree;
   Do father, mother, weep?
   Where can Lyca sleep?

   "Lost in desert wild
   Is your little child.
   How can Lyca sleep
   If her mother weep?

   "If her heart does ache,
   Then let Lyca wake;
   If my mother sleep,
   Lyca shall not weep.

   "Frowning, frowning night,
   O'er this desert bright
   Let thy moon arise,
   While I close my eyes."

   Sleeping Lyca lay
   While the beasts of prey,
   Come from caverns deep,
   Viewed the maid asleep.

   The kingly lion stood,
   And the virgin viewed:
   Then he gambolled round
   O'er the hallowed ground.

   Leopards, tigers, play
   Round her as she lay;
   While the lion old
   Bowed his mane of gold,

   And her breast did lick
   And upon her neck,
   From his eyes of flame,
   Ruby tears there came;

   While the lioness
   Loosed her slender dress,
   And naked they conveyed
   To caves the sleeping maid.