232 THE POEMS OF ANNE �When to the great Man's table now there comes �A Lord as great, follow'd by hungry Grooms: 80 �For these must be provided sundry Meats, �The best for Some, for Others coarser Gates. �One Servant, diligent above the rest �To help his Master to contrive the Feast, �Extols the Lamb was nourished with such Care, �So fed, so lodg'd, it must be Princely Fare; �And having this, my Lord his own may spare. �In haste he sends, led by no Law, but Will, �Not to entreat, or purchase, but to Kill. �The Messenger's arriv'd: the harmless Spoil, 90 �Unus'd to fly, runs Bleating to the Toil: �Whilst for the Innocent the Owner fear'd, �And, sure wou'd move, cou'd Poverty be heard. �Oh spare (he cries) the Product of my Cares, �My Stock's increase, the Blessing on my Prayers', �My growing Hope, and Treasure of my Life! �More was he speaking, when the murd'ring Knife �Shew'd him, his Suit, tho' just, must be deny'd, �And the white Fleece in its own Scarlet dy'd; �Whilst the poor helpless Wretch stands weeping by, 100 �And lifts his Hands for Justice to the Sky. �Which he shall find, th' incensed King replies, When for the proud Offence th' Oppressor dies. O Nathan! by the Holy Name I swear, Our Land such Wrongs unpunished shall not bear If, with the Fault, th' Offender thou declare. �To whom the Prophet, closing with the Time, Thou art the Man replies, and thine th' ill-natur'd Crime. Nor think, against thy Place, or State, I err; A Pow'r above thee does this Charge prefer; 110 �Urg'd by whose Spirit, hither am I brought T' expostulate his Goodness and thy Fault; ��� �
