I would fall asleep, as it might be in the open air, like a titmouse which the breeze keeps poised in the focus of a sunbeam — or sometimes the Louis XVI room, so cheerful that I could never feel really unhappy, even on my first night in it:
Marcel Proust. In Search of Lost Time [volume 1]
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I could hear titmice in the copse to the left, and a flock of jays calling out to each other as they fed, further on.