The hero has come home! 

What a squealing and a squalling, what a wealing and a wauling,
what a whooping and a howling, what a bellow, what a bray,
what a whining and a whinny, what a shindy, what melée! 
What a ruckus and a fuss, what a racket and a muss,
what a bustle and a tussle, what a fracas, what a fray,
what a scramble and a scuffle, what a scrimmage, what a day! 
As Toad returned triumphant - ascendant, resplendent -
as Toad returned exultant to claim his ancestral sway. 

Dame Fortune, like the fickle moon, had held Toad in her thrall, 
but now her wheel had turned again, and countered his sad fall, 
to let him take his rightful place as Master of Toad Hall. 

Well might the fearful weasels spring madly for the door! 
Well might the tables and china fall crashing to the floor! 
Well might the hapless ferrets cower before their doom, 
that terrifying moment when the heroes strode into the room! 

Great Badger, whiskers bristling, cudgel whistling through the air; 
stout Mole, black and grim, dark face an awful stare; 
brave Rat, with weapons fearful, spreading terror and dismay; 
and Toad, the conqu'ring hero, returned to save the day! 

The rout, it was soon over, the hall was quickly cleared, 
and from the wood the weasels' cries fell faintly on their ears. 
But, as his friends rejoiced, Toad quietly slipped away, 
retired to his bedroom, where sad in thought he lay. 

His brow a-rest upon his paw, he pondered long and deep. 
Then slowly his visage cleared, smiles to his face did creep. 
He giggled shy, and gathered chairs, and ranged them in a ring, 
then bowed twice to an unseen crowd, raised his voice and began to sing: 

The Toad came home! The Toad came home! 
There was panic in the parlour and howling in the hall, 
there was crying in the cow-shed and shrieking in the stall, 
when the Toad came home! When the Toad came home! 
There was smashing in of window and crashing in of door, 
there was chivvying of weasels that fainted on the floor, 
when the Toad came home! When the Toad came home! 

Bang! go the drums! Bang! go the drums! as the hero comes! 
Bang! go the drums! Bang! go the drums! as the hero comes! 

The trumpeters are tooting and the soldiers are saluting, 
and the cannon they are shooting and the klaxons are a-hooting. 
The motor-car goes poop-poop-poop at the head of the parade, 
steered by Toad, ingenious Toad, in splendour all arrayed. 

Shout hooray! Shout hooray! 
And let each one of the crowd try and shout it very loud, 
in honour of an animal of whom you're justly proud, 
for it's Toad's great day! 

He sang this loud and, when he'd done, he sang it all again, 
then heaved a sigh, a long slow sigh, and turned to join his friends. 
But though they clamoured for a speech, a song, a worthy ode, 
he modestly declined - he was indeed an altered Toad!