The Doves

Beside the crystal fountain,

Within the dark'ning grove,

The anxious moments counting

Bewail'd a trembling Dove:

"Why keeps he not his hour?"

She said or seem'd to say, -

"My love! what envious pow'r

Has cross'd thy hapless way?

The early star, benighted,

Has left the murky sky;

And through the air, affrighted,

The woodland tenants fly;

While I am left thus lonely,

They seek their mutual home:

Alas! such sorrows only

To

me

allotted come!"

What threatful sound affrights her?

Her flutt'ring heart is high, -

Ah, now! - what voice delights her?

"Tis he! - my love is nigh!"

Come, now, for measures cheerful

My fable I resign:

I

was that Dove so fearful,

And that dear partner

mine!