ONCE a little Frog
Sat a-croaking on a log,
Oh, and a very funny frog was he!
For he longed to be a tar
And go journeying afar,
Seeing wonders on the deep blue sea.
One night—oh, it was dark!—
A bit of birchen bark
Went a-drifting slowly down the stream;
And in this light canoe
Lay the little froggie, who
Imagined he was floating through a dream.
But my! when he awoke
His astonishment he spoke
In language that all froggies understand;
His mouth he opened wide
And he cried, and cried, and cried.
Although, he wasn’t out of sight of land.
The journey soon was oe’r,
And the froggie jumped ashore,
As happy and as frisky as could be;
And on a mossy log,
Sits that now contented frog,
And never, never, wants to go to sea!
Unknown