Dove  ~  Ellen Mary Trinder (nee WEBB)  ~  1838-1923

Why tarries my love? O why does he roam?My love has been long absent from me;
Come hither my dove, and I'll write to my love,
And send him a letter by thee.

"To find him swift fly; this letter I'll tie
Secure to thy leg with a string."
"Oh, not to my leg, fair lady, I beg,
But fasten it under my wing."

Her dove she did deck, and put round his neck,
A bell and a collar so gay;
She tied to his wing this letter with a string,
And kissed him and sent him away.

It blew and it rained, the pigeon disdained
To seek shelter, undaunted it flew;
But wet was the string, and painful the wing,
And heavy the letter it grew.

He flew all around till young Colin he found,
Then he perched on his hand with the prize;
Whose heart, when he reads, with tenderness bleeds,
For the pigeon it fluttered and died.