Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
The glowworm shows the matin to be near And gins to pale his uneffectual fire. — William Shakespeare
Everybody who was anybody seemed to be going to a meeting, the glowworm, who was a solipsist, the lemur who was not. — James Tate
