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