I will take their refrain into my song--
THE BIG TOAD
[_Patting a little_ TOAD _on the head to encourage him._] Don't be
afraid, go ahead,--froth!
THE TOADS
[_All together, at the base of the tree to which they form a crawling,
writhing girdle._] The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!
THE NIGHTINGALE
--And make of both a Villanelle!
THE TOADS
We welter in malignity!
THE NIGHTINGALE
The while they fume beneath my tree I fill with song the enchanted dell--
THE TOADS
The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we! [_And the Villanelle
proceeds, sung by the alternate voices, one of which, ever higher and
more enraptured, carries the song proper, and the others, ever angrier
and lower, the burden of the song._]
THE NIGHTINGALE _and_ THE TOADS, _alternately_
I sing! for Wind, that harper free,
And music bubbling from the well--
--We welter in malignity!--
And fragrance floating from the lea,
Of meadow-sweet and pimpernel--
--The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!--
And Luna showering ecstasy,
All weave so wonderful a spell--
--We welter in malignity!--
Its melting magic moveth me
The secret of my heart to tell!
--The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!--
Within my heart all sympathy,
Within mine eye all visions dwell--
--We welter in malignity!--
Life, Death, I turn to rhapsody,
Who am the deathless Philomel!
--The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we,
Who welter in malignity!
CHANTECLER
Beside those heavenly pipes, ah, me! my voice is Punchinello's squeak!
Sing on! Sing on! The Croakers are in retreat.
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