The title of a poem by
William Blake, in his
Songs of Experience:
The Little Girl Lost
In futurity
I prophetic see
That the earth from sleep
(Grave the sentence deep)
Shall arise and seek
For her maker meek;
And in the desart 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 wander'd long
Hearing wild birds' song.
``Sweet sleep, come to me
Underneath this tree.
Do father, mother weep,
Where can Lyca sleep?
``Lost in desart wild
Is your little child.
How can Lyca sleep
If her mother weep?
``If her heart does ake
Then let Lyca wake;
If my mother sleep,
Lyca shall not weep.
``Frowning, frowning night,
O'er this desart bright
Let thy moon arise
While I close my eyes.''
Sleeping
Lyca lay
While the
beasts of prey,
Come from
caverns deep,
View'd the
maid asleep.
The kingly
lion stood
And the
virgin view'd,
Then he gamboll'd round
O'er the
hollow'd ground.
Leopards,
tygers, play
Round her as she lay,
While the lion old
Bow'd his mane of gold.
And her
bosom lick,
And upon her neck
From his eyes of flame
Ruby tears there came;
While the
lioness
Loos'd her slender dress,
And naked they convey'd
To caves the sleeping maid.
______________________________________
Also the title of a 1932 novel by
Temple Bailey.
According to The
Book Review Digest of that year:
"Sentimental love story about a young girl of 19 who takes a year to make up her mind just which man she wants to marry--the fascinator who doesn't really believe in marriage, and hasn't a nickel, or the fine-looking young man who wants terribly to marry her, and is incidentally worth several millions. She arives at her momentous decision after a number of adventures, and promises to marry the nice young man with the millions.' --
Springfield Republican"
The title has since been used repeatedly, including recently by
Drew Barrymore for her autobiographical account of drug abuse.