what's up with the pigeon?

"I waited for the train at Coventry; I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, to watch the three tall spires and there I shaped the city's ancient legend into this"

And with those words - allegedly - the recounting of Godiva (in literature) began. Ah that Tennyson fellow, what a genuine talent he

Not wanting to drone on by recalling his words here, I'll simply give the ending and let the middle stay in lore - historical and otherwise - sooo

“Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity:
And one low churl, compact of thankless earth,
The fatal byword of all years to come,
Boring a little auger-hole in fear,
Peeped: but his eyes, before they had their will,
Were shriveled into darkness in his head,
And dropt before him. So the Powers, who wait
On noble deeds, cancelled a sense misused;
And she, that knew not, passed: and all at once,
With twelve great shocks of sound, the shameless noon
Was clashed and hammered from a hundred towers,
One after one; but even then she gained
Her bower; whence re-issuing, robed and crowned,
To meet her Lord, she took the tax away,
And built herself an everlasting name”

And like yeah, aptly and duly chastened, I stand before you (okay sit) and admit a most unfortunate statement - and one I really should have known was wrong before stating it - regarding the treatment of the Lady Godiva by the city of Coventry, while not as lauded as the bridge back in San Francisco, she isn't exactly skirted to the kerb as I might have inferred yesterday - oops - so here again I present to you Coventry's own, Lady Godiva out in public

(for the record: I hate rain)