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Grandfather Frog, what dost thou here So far from nature's grassy spray? How cam'st thou to this solid tier Where none but harm doth share the way? For many hours thou must have hopped To bring thyself so far from field, And yet thou cam'st the way unstopped, Death's carillon for thee unpealed. I do thee service, 'father Frog, Do not such frowning struggles give. For soon in woods on mossy log By river's edge thy form shall live. And there be safe, O greenish friend. Abundant flies may God thee send. |