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 travelled Frog would send him home. Not so, alas! The wayside grass Sees him no more: not so, alas! A broad-wheeled waggon unawares Ran him down, his joys, his cares. From dying choke one feeble croak The Frog's perpetual silence broke:– "Ye buoyant Frog