205. Upon Mrs Eliz. Wheeler, Under the Name of Amarillis
Sweet Amarillis, by a spring’sSoft and soul-melting murmurings,Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flewA Robin-red-breast; who at view,Not seeing her at all to stir,Brought leaves and moss to cover her:But while he, perking, there did pryAbout the arch of either eye,The lid began to let out day,—At which poor Robin flew away;And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved,He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived.