It died in my hands

This little fledgling (dove) flew into my window this morning. I found it looked sickly: swollen beak (where beak meets face) and runny eyes.
Held it to keep it warm and comfort it from the shock.
It kept fairly still.
Eventually started to sit up. Its parents were flying back and forth over us.
After a short while of holding it, it started to struggle and heave and (from experience of having birds die in my hands), I knew it was on its last. Said a prayer and chanted mantras for a peaceful transition.