Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, br Tick, tick, tick, like mites in a quarrel-- br Faint iambics that the full breeze wakens-- br But the pine tree makes a symphony thereof. br Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus, br Ballades by the score with the same old thought: br The snows and the roses of yesterday are vanished; br And what is love but a rose that fades? br Life all around me here in the village: br Tragedy, comedy, valor and truth, br Courage, constancy, heroism, failure-- br All in the loom, and oh what patterns! br Woodlands, meadows, streams and rivers-- br Blind to all of it all my life long.