Alas, that we are deaf and blind
To meanings all about us hid !
What secrets lurk the woods amid ?
What prophecies are on the wind ?

What tidings do the billows bring
And cry in vain upon the strand ?
If we might only understand
The brooklet's cryptic murmuring !

The tongues of earth and air are strange.
And yet (who knows ?) one little word
Learned from the language of the bird
Might make us lords of Fate and Change.