Mellifluous Mondays: Mr. Toad (Wind in the Willows)

Well, I don't know if you could label this "mellifluous," as it's more doggerel verse than poetry. But since I've been reading a lot of Kenneth Grahame lately for my thesis, here is what's currently in my head. Besides, it's (unfortunately) appropriate for me, since I tend to puff myself up just like Toad. How clever I am, I say to myself. How very lucky my friends are! What a great contribution I make to the beauty and well-being of the world! How repulsive such pride must be to God. Why do we foolish humans insist on giving glory to ourselves, when it belongs to someone else entirely? God is the source of any good or "clever" thing we could ever do, and all praise ought to go straight to Him.

Toad apparently hasn't learned that lesson, though. What an absurd little braggart.

The world has held great Heroes,
As history-books have showed;
But never a name to go down to fame
Compared with that of Toad!

The clever men at Oxford
Know all that there is to be knowed.
But they none of them know one half as much
As intelligent Mr. Toad!

The animals sat in the Ark and cried,
Their tears in torrents flowed.
Who was it said, "There's land ahead?"
Encouraging Mr. Toad!

The army all saluted
As they marched along the road.
Was it the King? Or Kitchener?
No. It was Mr. Toad!

The Queen and her Ladies-in-Waiting
Sat at the window and sewed.
She cried, "Look, who's that handsome man?"
They answered, "Mr. Toad."