Poems (Kimball)/The Doves

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

THE DOVES.

PRETTY doves, so blithely ranging
 Up and down the street;
Glossy throats all bright hues changing,
 Little scarlet feet.

Pretty doves! among the daisies
 They should coo and flit!
All these toilsome, noisy places
 Seem for them unfit.

Yet amidst our human plodding
 They must love to be;
With their little heads a-nodding,
 Busier than we.

Close to hoof and wheel they hover,
 Glancing right and left,
Sure some treasure to discover;
 Rapid, shy, and deft.

Friendliest of feathered creatures,
 In their timid guise;
Wisdom's little silent teachers,
 Praying us be wise.

Fluttering at footsteps careless,
 Danger swift to flee,
Lowly, trusting, faithful, fearless,—
 Oh that such were we!

In the world and yet not of it,
 Ready to take wing,—
By this lesson could we profit
 It were everything!