A tale of two sweet turtledoves,
Who danced above the pines.
Twining in a game of loves
Their countenance divine,
But little did they check to see
That this was not their destiny.
The two were fair and fond of heart
And flitted through the firs.
How rarely they were seen apart,
What horrid news this bears!
No longer could they pretend
That their story lacked an end.
One day, a chilly winter's morn
While the pair upon their flight
And from each other they were torn
By a force more than their might.
Separated were the two,
And ice soon came from the dew.
And captive one was found to be
In the dark raven's lair.
Though formed through his gallantry,
The unlikeliest of pairs.
The raven and the turtledove,
Their nest up in the cliff above.
And though great friends the pair became
The doves never united
Yet mention his dear lover's name,
The spouse, how he delighted!
Although nothing could be done
To bring the two back as one.
Yet on a silent, snowy night;
When the raven left his cave,
The tired dove ended his plight
And no more hope he gave
To find his fair, sweet turtledove;
His first, and last, and only love.