The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Frogs
A pool was once congealed with frost;
The frogs in its deep waters lost,
No longer dared to croak or spring;
But promised, being half asleep,
If suffered to the air to creep,
As very nightingales to sing.
A thaw dissolved the ice so strong,—
They proudly steered themselves along,
When landed, squatted on the shore,
And croaked as loudly as before.