THE SOLEMN FROG

I think he’s judge of all the rest, My friend, the solemn frog; He’s judge of all the water things, The skimming bugs with dripping wings, The turtle on the log; He sits upon a lily pad And if he ever sees them bad With sternness he will say: “Go hide among the darkest weeds Down deep, among the dungeon reeds, And there repent your wicked deeds, Away, young thing, away!”