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We'd gone to the woods for a practice,
For we were performing at court.
I was cast in the hero's part, Pyramus,
And acted superbly, I thought.

Then something peculiar happened:
My friends all ran screaming away.
And instead of a tankard of bitter
I fancied a bundle of hay.

The queen of the fairies approached me –
A very attractive young lass −
But still I heard Peter Quince shouting,
"Oh, Bottom! Stop playing the ass!"

My memory's now somewhat hazy . . .
I lay on a bank of sweet flowers.
Titania stroked me and kissed me –
The canoodling went on for hours!

Then I woke on the cold ground at cock-crow
Back to normal, or so it would seem.
So was it a fling with a fairy
Or just a theatrical dream?