The Frog

Contemptuous of his home beyond The village and the village pond, A large-souled Frog who spurned each byeway, Hopped along the imperial highway. Nor grunting pig nor barking dog Could disconcert so great a frog. The morning dew was lingering yet His sides to cool, his tongue to wet; The night dew when the night should come A traveled frog would send him home. Not so, alas! the wayside grass Sees him no more: - not so, alas! A broad wheeled wagon unawares Ran him down, his joys, his cares. From dying choke one feeble croak The Frog's perpetual silence broke: "Ye buoyant Frogs, ye great and small, Even I am mortal after all. My road to Fame turns out a wry way: I perish on this hideous highway,- Oh for my old familiar byeway!