Greek Title

I love the inoffensive frog,
    'A little child, a limber elf,'
With health and spirits all agog,
He does the long jump in a bog
Or teaches men to swim and dive.
If he should be cut up alive,
    Should I not be cut up myself?

So I intend to be straightway
    An Anti-Vivisectionist;
I'll read Miss Cobbe five hours a day
And watch the little frogs at play,
With no desire to see their hearts
At work, or other inward parts,
    If other inward parts exist.

Robert Fuller Murray

Robert Fuller Murray was a Scottish poet known for his lyrical and expressive poetry. Born on December 26, 1863, in Roxbury, Massachusetts, he moved to Scotland at a young age. Despite a short life, ending on April 15, 1894, Murray left a significant mark with his works, which often reflected themes of nature and human emotion. His poetry is characterized by its elegance and depth of feeling. Murray's influence remained through posthumous publications and collections of his poetry.

Robert Fuller Murray

Love Recalled In Sleep

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

Magni Nominis Umbra

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

The Waster Singing At Midnight. After Longfellow

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

A Swinburnian Interlude

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Frog

Be kind and tender to the Frog,
And do not call him names,
As "Slimy skin," or "Polly-wog,"
Or likewise "Ugly James,"
Or "Gap-a-grin," or "Toad-gone-wrong,"
Or "Bill Bandy-knees":
The Frog is justly sensitive
To epithets like these.

No animal will more repay
A treatment kind and fair;
At least so lonely people say
Who keep a frog (and, by the way,
They are extremely rare).

Hilaire Belloc

The Frog That Wished To Be As Big As The Ox.[1]

The tenant of a bog,
An envious little frog,
Not bigger than an egg,
A stately bullock spies,
And, smitten with his size,
Attempts to be as big.
With earnestness and pains,
She stretches, swells, and strains,
And says, 'Sis Frog, look here! see me!
Is this enough?' 'No, no.'
'Well, then, is this?' 'Poh! poh!
Enough! you don't begin to be.'
And thus the reptile sits,
Enlarging till she splits.
The world is full of folks
Of just such wisdom; -
The lordly dome provokes
The cit to build his dome;
And, really, there is no telling
How much great men set little ones a swelling.

Jean de La Fontaine

The Hare And The Frogs.

^[1]

Once in his bed deep mused the hare,
(What else but muse could he do there?)
And soon by gloom was much afflicted; -
To gloom the creature's much addicted.
'Alas! these constitutions nervous,'
He cried, 'how wretchedly they serve us!
We timid people, by their action,
Can't eat nor sleep with satisfaction;
We can't enjoy a pleasure single,
But with some misery it must mingle.
Myself, for one, am forced by cursed fear
To sleep with open eye as well as ear.
"Correct yourself," says some adviser.
Grows fear, by such advice, the wiser?
Indeed, I well enough descry
That men have fear, as well as I.'
With such revolving thoughts our hare
Kept watch in soul-consuming care.
A passing shade, or leaflet's quiver
Would give his blo...

Jean de La Fontaine

The End Of April

This is the time when larks are singing loud
    And higher still ascending and more high,
This is the time when many a fleecy cloud
    Runs lamb-like on the pastures of the sky,
This is the time when most I love to lie
    Stretched on the links, now listening to the sea,
Now looking at the train that dawdles by;
    But James is going in for his degree.

James is my brother.    He has twice been ploughed,
    Yet he intends to have another shy,
Hoping to pass (as he says) in a crowd.
    Sanguine is James, but not so sanguine I.
If you demand my reason, I reply:
    Because he reads no Greek without a key
And spells Thucydides c-i-d-y;
    Yet James is going in for his degree.

No doubt, if the authorities allowed
    The taking in of Bohns, ...

Robert Fuller Murray

Ye Frog's Wooing

1.

It was the frog lived in the well,
Heigh-ho! says Rowley;
And the merry mouse under the mill,
With a Rowley, Powley, Gammon, and Spinach,
Heigh-ho! says Anthony Rowley.

2.

The frog he would a-wooing ride, Heigh-ho, &c.
Sword and buckler at his side, With a, &c.

3.

When upon his high horse set, Heigh-ho, &c.
His boots they shone as black as jet, With a, &c.

4.

When he came to the merry mill-pin, Heigh-ho, &c.
"Lady Mouse, are you within?" With a, &c.

5.

Then came out the dusty mouse, Heigh-ho, &c.
"I am the lady of this house," With a, &c.

6.

"Hast thou any mind of me?" Heigh-ho, &c.
"I have e'en great mind of thee," With a, &c.
...

Walter Crane

Garden-Fancies - II. Sibrandus Schafnaburgensis

I.

Plague take all your pedants, say I!
He who wrote what I hold in my hand,
Centuries back was so good as to die,
Leaving this rubbish to cumber the land;
This, that was a book in its time,
Printed on paper and bound in leather,
Last month in the white of a matin-prime
Just when the birds sang all together.

II.

Into the garden I brought it to read,
And under the arbute and laurustine
Read it, so help me grace in my need,
From title-page to closing line.
Chapter on chapter did I count,
As a curious traveller counts Stonehenge;
Added up the mortal amount;
And then proceeded to my revenge.

III.

Yonders a plum-tree with a crevice
An owl would build in, were he but sage;
For a lap of moss, like a fine pont-le...

Robert Browning