A song for soprano and lute. This setting of a poem by John Keats is one of several I made in the late 1980s. It deals with two subjects of great importance to me: one being birds--those feathery angels who, throughout the arc of my existence, have so often lifted my gaze along with my spirits towards their ethereal realm; the other being death—that dreaded but obligatory harbinger to new life, whose merciless hand I felt at a young age. May this song help bring peace to those who suffer and reflection to those who suffer not.

THE DOVE, Copyright©1989 DamonMusic by Sean Damon Rohde. All rights reserved

Words by John Keats I had a dove and the sweet dove died, And I have thought it died of grieving: O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied With a silken thread of my own hands weaving; Sweet little red feet! why should you die-- Why should you leave me, sweet bird! why? You liv'd alone in the forest-tree, Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me? I kiss'd you oft and gave you white peas; Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?