THE HOMING DOVE 



O WINGED messenger of love, 



Of hope and peace and life in sacred lore, 

 Tell me, O silent, swift, unerring minion. 

 What instinct guides thy flight on downy pinion 

 Across the wastes of sea, the mountains o'er. 



Through wind and murky storm, through night and day? 

 What hidden power bears thee on thy way 

 Safe, safe unto thy goal from foreign shore, 

 O gentle dove? 



Nay, none but He who rules above 



Could bear thee thus o'er sea and desert wide; 

 Nay, none but God could clarify thy vision, 

 Thou symbol of the soul for realms elysian 

 Bound. Naught but spirit-prescience e'er could guide 

 Thee true. Yea, thou a perfect symbol art 

 Of deathless soul, by heaven set apart — 

 Life's fairest emblem homing o'er death's tide — 

 O gentle dove I 



[5] 



