Song to a City Pigeon

Today happens to be the 20th anniversary of my graduation from library school (Graduate School of Library and Information Science, University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana).  In celebration, I am posting the words of a song I cataloged into our rare collections library this week.  The item this is from is a bound set of Original Songs, Duetts [sic], Glees &c., Sacred, Moral and Amusing. Composed by E. Ives, Junr., Principal of the Philadelphia Musical Seminary. [Philadelphia: s.n., ca. 1835].  There was no bibliographic record for the collection in OCLC’s WorldCat database, and there are only 2 holding libraries in OCLC for copies of this particular song (Brown University and University of Virginia).

Anyway, here are the song’s lyrics. (I’m not sure whether Ives — a distant relative of composer Charles Ives — considered it sacred, moral, or amusing. I’ll leave that up to you.) Happy pigeon watching!

Song to a City Pigeon

Poetry by N. P. Willis, Esqr.

Music by E. Ives, Junr., Principal of the Philadelphia Musical Seminary

Philadelphia: George Willig, [ca. 1835]

 

O come to my window thou beautiful dove,

Thy daily visits have touch’d my love;

I watch thy coming and list the note

That stirs so low in thy melloe throat

And my joy is high,

My joy is high__to catch thy gentle eye.

            Then come to my window thou beautiful dove

Thy daily visits have touch’d my love

I watch thy coming and list the note,

That stirs so low in thy mellow throat.

 

Oh! Why dost thou sit on the heated eaves,

And leave the wood with its freshen’d leaves?

Or why art thou haunting the sultry street

When forest paths are so cool and sweet?

            How canst thou bear

The noise of people___this sultry air?

            Then come &c.___

 

Thou, Pilgrim, alone of the feather’d race,

Dost look unscared on the human face;

And thou alone with a wing to flee

Dost love with man in his haunts to be

            And the “gentle dove”

Is made a title for trust and love.

            Then come &c.___

 

It is not by chance_ thou art kept apart

By Him who wisely hath tam’d thy heart,

To stir the love for the bright and fair

That else were seal’d in the crowded air;

            I sometimes dream

Angelic rays from thy pinions stream.

            Then come &c.___

 

O come to me ever, when daylight leaves

The page I read to my humble eaves,

And wash thy breast in the hollow spout,

And murmur thy low sweet music out,

            I hear and see

Rich lessons of heaven sweet bird in thee.

            Then come &c.___

 

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Published in: on 8 August 2008 at 8:04 am  Leave a Comment  

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