wind, and is weaving roses for her coronal and The 

 will be with us while we are yet unaware. Summer 



What a quantity of old lore one might era s ' 

 collect about the dove, and as for the allusions 

 in ancient and modern literature they must be 

 legion — from the familiar Scriptural phrase 

 about the turtle to Chaucer's 'the wedded 

 turtil with her hearte trewe,' from Greek 

 myth or Roman poem to Tennyson's 'moan 

 of doves in immemorial elms.' Doubtless 

 much of the dove-lore is so well known that 

 it would be superfluous to repeat it here. As 

 the symbol of peace, of the Spirit, the dove 

 herself is universally familiar. The turtle is 

 also a symbol of mourning, and of old, as 

 among the oak-groves of Dodona or before the 

 fane of Hierapolis, was held sacred as the bird 

 of prophecy, of the soul, and of the life after 

 death. It is because of the loving faithfulness 

 of the cushat that this bird was long ago dedi- 

 cated to Venus ; and it was because Venus 

 presided over both birth and death that the 

 dove became associated of old with scenes so 

 opposite as marriage festivals and funeral rites. 

 We are all familiar with the legend that the 

 soul of a dying person may be seen departing 

 like a flying dove, and so it was that even a 

 tame pigeon came to be an unwelcome sight 

 at the window where any one lay in serious 



155 



