"Cooing, cooing, cooing dove!
How many little ones have you to love?"
"In my nest--two--three--four--five
Little ones I hatch'd alive."
"Tell me then, O dove, I pray,
Where are the little ones to-day?"
"On a bough both safe and strong
Left I them an hour long,
I cannot see them now, and know
They have gone to feed the crow."
"Dusky sister of the crow
Let us to the wedding go,
To-morrow or on Sunday morn;
Though the kite doth sit forlorn,
Seeing in a painful dream
Young ones perish in the stream.
All the young ones of the crow
Cheese are seeking to and fro."