"Sweet Amarillis, by a spring’s Soft and soule-melting murmurings Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew A robin redbreast, who at view, Not seeing her at all to stir, Brought leaves and mosse to cover her; But while he, perking, there did prie About the arch of either eye, The lid began to let out day, At which poore robin flew away; And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved, He chirpt for joy to see himself deceived."