. Birds and flowers, or, Lays and lyrics of rural life . THE STOCK-DOVE. Tell me, Stock-dove, wherefore thou artmoaning ever,Filhng all the greenwood with thyplaint of woe ? I moan not, says the Stock-dove ; I praisethe great, good GiverOf life and love and sunshine in the bestway that I know. 48 THE STOCK-DOVE. I learned my note in Eden, when young was all creation, When wandered sinless Adam beneath those blessed bowers ;When the morning stars thrilled heaven with shouts of exultation,And the joyous Earth was radiant with a rainbow-zone offlowers. .■mi. Then all the birds made vocal the new-
. Birds and flowers, or, Lays and lyrics of rural life . THE STOCK-DOVE. Tell me, Stock-dove, wherefore thou artmoaning ever,Filhng all the greenwood with thyplaint of woe ? I moan not, says the Stock-dove ; I praisethe great, good GiverOf life and love and sunshine in the bestway that I know. 48 THE STOCK-DOVE. I learned my note in Eden, when young was all creation, When wandered sinless Adam beneath those blessed bowers ;When the morning stars thrilled heaven with shouts of exultation,And the joyous Earth was radiant with a rainbow-zone offlowers. .■mi. Then all the birds made vocal the new-born hills and valleys,And twittered alleluias were heard in every giove;And, with my mate beside me, amid the greenwood alleys,I praised God as He taught me, with a cooing song of love. THE STOCK-DOVE. 49 We did not make our singing, nor one despise tlie otherBecause his part was humbler or different to his own;God was the loving Father, and every bird a brother-, And all strove in glad chorus to make His goodness known. And if I seem to murmur and moan in endless grieving,Tis thou who hast mistaken the meaning of my lay;I moan not, neither murmur, but coo forth sweet thanksgivingTo that good, loving Father who feeds us day by day.
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