A froge upon a lily pad doth rest,
Beneath the warmth of sunlight's gentle gaze;
Its croaking melody with vigor blessed,
A symphony amidst the water's maze.
Green as the vibrant hue of nature's crown,
With eyes like endless pools of twilight dreams;
It sings to stars that in the heavens drown,
And leaps with joy, as pure as mountain streams.
O froge, in thy simple grace profound,
Thou art a prince in humble, verdant guise;
Thy kingdom but a pond, with lilies crowned,
A realm untouched by world's deceitful eyes.
Yet in thy croak, the universe concurs,
That beauty oft in quiet places stirs.