The Frogs.
By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
A Pool was once congeal'd with frost;
The frogs, in its deep waters lost,
No longer dared to croak or spring;
But promised, being half asleep,
If suffer'd to the air to creep,
As very nightingales to sing.
A thaw dissolved the ice so strong,
They proudly steer'd themselves along,
When landed, squatted on the shore,
And croak'd as loudly as before.