In olden times

In so often troubled Palestine,

So it happened, so long ago,

Before the world was old,

Or so they say,

The way the story’s told,

That by a pigeon out of the purist girl,

Sprang forth the Living Water,

From this radiant Jewish daughter,

To redeem an errant world.

Now the heaven sent,

Water and daughter,

Wonder where the pigeon went

And why.

Is he gone to a shudder of love?

Or

Gone with the truth of a dying eye?