We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves: we look for
judgment, but there is none: for read more

We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves: we look for
judgment, but there is none: for salvation, but it is far off
from us.

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

The thrustelcok made eek hir lay,
The wode dove upon the spray
She sang ful loude and read more

The thrustelcok made eek hir lay,
The wode dove upon the spray
She sang ful loude and cleere.

See how that pair of billing doves
With open murmurs own their loves
And, heedless of censorious read more

See how that pair of billing doves
With open murmurs own their loves
And, heedless of censorious eyes,
Pursue their unpolluted joys:
No fears of future want molest
The downy quiet of their nest.

As the hawk is wont to pursue the trembling doves.
[Lat., Ut solet accipiter trepidas agitare columbas.]

As the hawk is wont to pursue the trembling doves.
[Lat., Ut solet accipiter trepidas agitare columbas.]

As when the dove returning bore the mark
Of earth restored to the long labouring ark;
The read more

As when the dove returning bore the mark
Of earth restored to the long labouring ark;
The relics of mankind, secure at rest,
Open every window to receive the guest,
And the fair bearer of the message bless'd.

. . . The dove and very blessed spirit of peace, . . .

. . . The dove and very blessed spirit of peace, . . .

I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried read more

I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed:
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song,--the song for me!

And oft I heard the tender dove
In firry woodlands making moan.

And oft I heard the tender dove
In firry woodlands making moan.