VIII.
Yet he took it amiss that his efforts were lost
To thaw with his splendor that armor of frost
(For our frog quite disdained any duck to accost),
And loudly he shouted,
"Come back, sir, come back!
You're spoiling our road
With your zig-zagging track,
Come back, or yon man, with his cat-o'-nine tails,
Will be after your team, till you whistle like quails—
Great Neptune! If there ain't the mischief to pay!
Just as sure as I waddle,
Or swim, dive, or paddle,
Those rats of young Gluck's are a-running away!"
IX.
Too true. They had heard the duck's dreadful appeal—
A cat with nine tails! why, the thought made them squeal.
And they ran for their holes, with poor Gluck, neck and heel.
But whether he lived,
Or whether he died,
Or whether the rats
Managed safely to hide,
Or whether his parents e'er saw him again,
Or whether Miss Gung always waited in vain,
'Neath her lily-pads green, for a lover, or no,
Are things that belong
To the rest of my song
Of the frog who wouldn't a-wooing go.
PART SECOND.
I.
Oh! moan, ye winds, by the green pool's brink!
And quickly, ye Glucks, in the deep mud sink;
Prepare all the dregs of affliction to drink!
The pride of the puddle,
Breath of thy breath,
Lies low in the marshes,
Fainting to death.
Oh! weep, poor Miss Gung! for there never shall be
In thy home of the lilies a lover for thee.
Thy sun goeth down with never a glow,
He hath frowned on thy fate,
On thy maiden estate,
And the one whom thou lovest is lying all low!
II.
Ha! what is this coming? what wreck do they spy?
What driverless rat-steeds are these rushing by?
"Our child!" cried the mother; "oh! fly to him, fly!"
These words to old Gluck,
And that mother fell dead;
She had burst with her grief,
And the vital spark fled.
Then madly in search leaped that father bereft,
And wildly those goggle-eyes peered right and left;
Till at last, where the bank lay a little aslant,
He saw his son lying,
Apparently dying,
For all he could do was to quiver and pant.