(VILLANELLE)
"Men know but little more than we, Who count us least of things terrene, How happy days are made to be!
"Of such strange tidings what think ye, O birds in brown that peck and preen?
Men know but little more than we!
"When I was borne from yonder tree In bonds to them, I hoped to glean How happy days are made to be, "And want and wailing turned to glee;Alas, despite their mighty mien Men know but little more than we!
"They cannot change the Frost's decree, They cannot keep the skies serene;How happy days are made to be "Eludes great Man's sagacity No less than ours, O tribes in treen!
Men know but little more than we How happy days are made to be."
