 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
18
The Turtle Dove
RECENTLY HEARD FOR THE FIRST TIME AT LONDESBOROUGH AMONG THE NEW PLANTATIONS
Green were the hills with freshly growing firs—Each tree a pyramid or tapering spire—
Where birds might rest or nest at their desire—
When a new voice, brooding and crooning, stirs
The silence. Wondering I exclaim, 'Tis hers—
The Turtle Dove's—last comer of the choir
That charms our wolds. Oh, never shall I tire
Of thee, most soothing of our choristers.
Welcome, sweet symbol of the Heavenly Dove,
Whose voice made glad the fields of Palestine,
Whose form descended on the Lord of love:
Fain would we draw Thee, Visitor Divine,
To rest with us, by lives that point above,
And like green fir-trees in Thy presence shine.
| Lyra Pastoralis | |