I Lay In My Bed And Fiddled With A Dreamland Viol And Bow, And The Tunes Flew Back To My Fingers I Had Melodied Years Ago. It Was Two Or Three In The Morning When I Fancy-Fiddled So Long Reels And Country-Dances, And Hornpipes Swift And Slow. And Soon Anon Came Crossing The Chamber In The Gray Figures Of Jigging Fieldfolk - Saviours Of Corn And Hay - To The Air Of "Haste To The Wedding," As After A Wedding-Day; Yea, Up And Down The Middle In Windless Whirls Went They! There Danced The Bride And Bridegroom, And Couples In A Train, Gay Partners Time And Travail Had Longwhiles Stilled Amain! . . . It Seemed A Thing For Weeping To Find, At Slumber'S Wane And Morning'S Sly Increeping, That Now, Not Then, Held Reign.