Athens in freedom flourish'd long,
Till licence seiz'd the giddy throng.
Just laws grown weary to obey,
They sunk to tyranny a prey.
Pisistratus, though mild he sway'd,
Their turbulence had not allay'd.
Whilst they were cursing in despair
The yoke they had not learn'd to bear,
Esop, their danger to describe,
Rehears'd this fable to the tribe:
"Some Frogs, like you, of freedom tir'd,
From Jupiter a king desir'd:
One that should execute the law,
And keep the dissolute in awe.
Jove laught, and threw them down a log,
That thundering fell and shook the bog.
Amongst the reeds the tremblers fled:
Till one more bold advanc'd his head,
And saw the monarch of the flood
Lying half smother'd in the mud.
He calls the croaking race around:
"A wooden king!" the banks resound.
Fear once remov'd, they swim about him,
And gibe and jeer and mock and flout him;
And messengers to Jove depute,
Effectively to grant their suit.
A water-snake he sent them then,
Who soon had swallow'd half the fen.
Their woes scarce daring to reveal,
To Mercury by night they steal,
And beg him to entreat of Jove
The direful serpent to remove.
"No," says the God, "they chose their lot,
And must abide what they have got:"
So you, my friends, had best go home
In peace, lest something worse should come."
Source: Boothby - Phaedrus 1.2.
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