siesta day-dreams

Numa Pompilius and Egeria - Sculpture-Relief by Bertel Thorvaldsen

Not only siesta, but day-dreaming at siesta, and

not only day-dreaming at siesta, but
day-dreaming at siesta with visions of meeting a female spirit, and not only
day-dreaming at siesta with visions of meeting a female spirit, but
day-dreaming at siesta with visions of meeting a female spirit, followed by the allegation of being under the influence of drink, thus:

But here comes Frank again: well, rest is evidently not a time for dull narrative.

F.  "Most industrious of scribblers, I give you good evening!  How charming, for a change, is our old friend, Siesta!  I hope the beautiful nymphs of this happy valley, if they suffice you, hovered over your dreams.  But, in truth, I think you dream all day, when no wild bull is a-foot. Hast thou, most favored mortal, tempted an Egeria from her sacred fountain and grove to meet thee, where others groan in very spirit, in the hot and dusty stony barrens?"

C.  You are quite overpowering!  Your dreams surely were spirituous.  But a truce to day-dreams; light as they are, the whole world granteth them not a foundation spot!"

(Scenes Beyond the Western Border; and Scenes and Adventures in the Army)

High midsummer noon is more silent than night. Most sweet a siesta then. And noon dreams are day-dreams indeed; born under the meridian sun. Pale Cynthia begets pale specter shapes; and her frigid rays best illuminate white nuns, marble monuments, icy glaciers, and cold tombs. 

The sun rolled on. And starting to his feet, arms clasped, and wildly staring, Yoomy exclaimed--"Nay, nay, thou shalt not depart, thou maid!--here, here I fold thee for aye!--Flown?--A dream! Then siestas henceforth while I live. And at noon, every day will I meet thee, sweet maid! And, oh Sun! set not; and poppies bend over us, when next we embrace!"

"What ails that somnambulist?" cried Media, rising. "Yoomy, I say! what ails thee?"

"He must have indulged over freely in those citrons," said Mohi, sympathetically rubbing his fruitery. "Ho, Yoomy! a swallow of brine will help thee." (Mardi)

UPDATE:  Yoomy and the Captain of Dragoons are being Byronic again.  From the fourth canto of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (115):

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart
Which found no mortal resting-place so fair
As thine ideal breast; whate'er thou art
Or wert,--a young Aurora of the air,
The nympholepsy of some fond despair;
Or, it might be, a beauty of the earth,
Who found a more than common votary there
Too much adoring; whatsoe'er thy birth,
Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth.