@3FIDDLE away, Old Time Fiddle away, Old Fellow! Airs for infancy, youth, and prime, Tunes both shrill and mellow. Fiddle away, Or grave or gay, For faces pink or yellow Scrape your song a lifetime long, Fiddle away, Old Fellow!@1 Here are country maidens' breasts As white as hedgeside may; Here are lips as red as hips That make October gay; Here are buckled feet, and comely Limbs unspoiled by hose that's homely, Twinkling as you play. Though your bow be fast as fire, Feet like these shall hardly tire While the stars will stay. @3Fiddle away, Old Time Fiddle away, Old Fellow! Airs for infancy, youth, and prime, Tunes both shrill and mellow.@1 Here's a wooden bench where sit Two old crones, in tears, Have not flung a romping leg Fully forty years! Lovers, sons and daughters gone, Still they sadly linger on, Mingling hopes and fears, And in the merry dancing-rings There's not a bouncing maiden springs With blood allied to theirs; And not a bearded mouth that smiles Rejoiced their hut with baby wiles Or learned their gentle prayers. @3Fiddle them peace, Old Time Fiddle them rest, Old Fellow! Tunes that ring through winter rime Something of sweet and mellow.@1 Down scented lanes that sweethearts know The homeward dancers go, And wake the birds with merry words And lapses into heel-and-toe. "Ah, come with me across the ridge And dream upon the wooden bridge," Cries John to sweet-lip Sue; "And hear me whisper how the strains Of music tingle in my veins, Though not so much as you!" Here softly lies in starlit eyes That story, golden as a star, Unchanged beneath the changing skies On mountain-top, by harbour bar, Wherever Venus in her car, Dove-drawn, upon her mission flies! The lovers lean across the rail And watch the river running pale Beneath them in the silver light. Nowsweeter far than this Their lips within the stream unite (O star of Love, so strangely bright!) And tremble to a kiss. @3Fiddle them faith, Old Time Fiddle them love, Old Fellow! Beautiful songs of wedded prime, Low and sweet and mellow. Let your brilliant bow Tenderly always go, And happy things on golden strings Fiddle them, dear Old Fellow!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON FINDING A FAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THANKSGIVING DAY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AFFINITES: 3 by MATHILDE BLIND |