Song Of The Croaker.

An old frog lived in a dismal swamp,
In a dismal kind of way;
And all that he did, whatever befell,
Was to croak the livelong day.
Croak, croak, croak,
When darkness filled the air,
And croak, croak, croak,
When the skies were bright and fair.

"Good Master Frog, a battle is fought,
And the foeman's power is broke."
But he only turned a greener hue,
And answered with a croak.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the clouds are dark and dun,
And croak, croak, croak,
In the blaze of the noontide sun.

"Good Master Frog, the forces of right
Are driving the hosts of wrong."
But he gave his head an ominous shake,
And croaked out, "Nous verrons!"
Croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.

To poison the cup of life,
By always dreading the worst.
Is to make of the earth a dungeon damp,
And the happiest life accursed.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the noontide sun rides high,
And croak, croak, croak,
Lest the night come by and by.

Farewell to the dismal frog;
Let him croak as loud as he may,
He cannot blot the sun from heaven,
Nor hinder the march of day,
Though he croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Horatio Alger, Jr. was a prolific 19th-century American author, best known for his many young adult novels about impoverished boys who rise from humble backgrounds to lives of middle-class security and comfort through hard work, determination, courage, and honesty. His works, which typically feature a rags-to-riches narrative, were immensely popular and instilled the American Dream ideal. Alger's stories were a reflection of the societal values of his time. However, despite his success as a writer, he lived a rather modest life and never married.

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle, Having "Nibbled A Little" For Two Hours At Dinner, Retireth From The Table Unsatisfied.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

Summer Hours.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

Merdle The Banker.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

Mrs. Merdle Discourseth Of Hygiene And Fish Sauce.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

English

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Frogs In Chorus

The chorus frogs in the big lagoon
Would sing their songs to the silvery moon.
Tenor singers were out of place,
For every frog was a double bass.
But never a human chorus yet
Could beat the accurate time they set.
The solo singer began the joke;
He sang, "As long as I live I'll croak,
Croak, I'll croak,"
And the chorus followed him: "Croak, croak, croak!"

The poet frog, in his plaintive tone,
Sang of a sorrow was all his own;
"How shall I win to my heart's desire?
How shall I feel my spirit's fire?"
And the solo frog in his deepest croak,
"To fire your spirit," he sang, "eat coke,
Coke, eat coke,"
And the chorus followed him: "Coke, coke, coke!"

The green frog sat in a swampy spot
And he sang the song of he knew not what.
"The w...

Andrew Barton Paterson

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

Ye Frog & Ye Crow

1.
A jolly fat frog lived in the river swim, O!
A comely black crow lived on the river brim, O!
"Come on shore, come on shore,"
Said the crow to the frog, and then, O!
"No, you'll bite me, no, you'll bite me,"
Said the frog to the crow again, O!

2.
"O! there is sweet music on yonder green hill, O!
And you shall be a dancer, a dancer in yellow,
All in yellow, all in yellow."
Said the crow to the frog, and then, O!
"All in yellow, all in yellow,"
Said the frog to the crow again, O!

3.
"Farewell, ye little fishes, that in the river swim, O!
I'm going to be a dancer, a dancer in yellow."
"O beware! O beware!"
Said the fish to the frog, and then, O!
"I'll take care, I'll take care,"
Said the frog to the fish again, O!

4.

Walter Crane

The Boy Next Door

I.

There's a boy who lives next door;
And this boy is just as bad
As a boy can be; and poor!
He's so poor it makes me sad
When I see him. Out at knee;
And no shoes; and, more than that,
Hardly any shirt or hat.
He's as poor as Poverty.

II.

But I like him; yes, I do.
He can play 'most any game,
And tell fairy stories, too;
Funny stories, just the same
As my father does. And he
Told me one about a frog,
Living near a lake or bog,
Frog that married a bumblebee.

III.

And another of Jumping Joan
And Hink Minx, the old witch that
Sits before the fire alone
Frying fat for her black cat.
And of Craney Crow; her dog
And her chicken. But the best,
One I like more than the rest,
'S that one o...

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The Frog

Who am I but the Frog - the Frog!
    My realm is the dark bayou,
And my throne is the muddy and moss-grown log
    That the poison-vine clings to -
And the blacksnakes slide in the slimy tide
    Where the ghost of the moon looks blue.

What am I but a King - a King! -
    For the royal robes I wear -
A scepter, too, and a signet-ring,
    As vassals and serfs declare:
And a voice, god wot, that is equaled not
    In the wide world anywhere!

I can talk to the Night - the Night! -
    Under her big black wing
She tells me the tale of the world outright,
    And the secret of everything;
For she knows you all, from the time you crawl,
    To the doom that death will bring.

The Storm swoops down, and he blows - and blows, -
    Wh...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Sun And The Frogs.

^[1]

Long from the monarch of the stars
The daughters of the mud received
Support and aid; nor dearth nor wars,
Meanwhile, their teeming nation grieved.
They spread their empire far and wide
Through every marsh, by every tide.
The queens of swamps - I mean no more
Than simply frogs (great names are cheap) -
Caball'd together on the shore,
And cursed their patron from the deep,
And came to be a perfect bore.
Pride, rashness, and ingratitude,
The progeny of fortune good,
Soon brought them to a bitter cry, -
The end of sleep for earth and sky.
Their clamours, if they did not craze,
Would truly seem enough to raise
All living things to mutiny
Against the power of Nature's eye.
The sun,^[2] according to their croak,

Jean de La Fontaine