The Glass Frog:
Frost of frigid eve is that a bear I conceive
Received of pleasant deceive randomized by delightful womanly wiles.
Dust off the musk drink in that hunger of love and lust.
Skill and thrill of conquered flatteries dolloped with caressing touch.
Brain all a blush with inebriated anticipation this can not be rushed.
Perched upon this urn of learned concerns the glass frog leaps into the luring quip.
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