The frogs, of calm & quiet tir'd,
From Jupiter a king requir'd;
Of sport and frolic always fond.
A log was tumbl'd in the pond.
The splash astounded, forth they fled
Till one by one was rais'd a head.
The log lay still - they bolder grew -
And round their king their squadrons threw.
Distrust and fear now all suspended,
They to his back in shoals ascended,
Enjoy'd their visionary hour
And croak'd defiance to his pow'r.
A meeting was resolv'd upon,
The tidings thro the rushes sung;
The day arriv'd - the chair was plac'd -
And by a rev'rend croaker grac'd.
A secretary too was nam'd
For penmanship & talents fam'd,
A long petition then was form'd
And by a thousand names adorn'd;
They join'd unanimous to say
Their king a sluggish monster lay
Whom nothing they could do could jostle,
Alike unfit to rule or bustle.
Jove frown'd & down a stork he threw
Into the discontented crew.
His majesty with hunger keen
Their mottl'd ranks began to thin
Now wad'd here - now stalk'd there -
Nor knew nor age or sex to spare.
Now from the bog a pray'r arose
To free them from this worst of woes;
Jove stopped up his ears in fumo
And turn'd to fondle with his Juno,
Leaving the frogs to moan & fret
And meet as best they could their fate.