And there my little doves did sit
	With feathers softly brown
	And glittering eyes that showed their right
	To general Nature’s deep delight.

E. B. Browning.    

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

Chaucer.    

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

Dryden.    

	Oh! when ’tis summer weather,
	And the yellow bee, with fairy sound,
	The waters clear is humming round,
	And the cuckoo sings unseen,
	And the leaves are waving green—
	Oh! then ’tis sweet,
	In some retreat,
	To hear the murmuring dove,
	With those whom on earth alone we love,
	And to wind through the greenwood together.

Rev. Wm. Lisle Bowles.