The Wolf and the Lamb

"Might makes right." That's true and always was—
Now let us see just how it does.

A thirsty lamb bent down its head
To sip at a clear-running brook.
A wolf was watching, with a growling stomach,
Drawn by hunger out to prowl the neighborhood.
"How dare you have the gall to foul my drinking water!"
He snarled in utter fury at her.
"A punishment must follow such audacity."
"Sire," replied the lamb, "His Gracious Majesty
Ought not to get so mad at me,
For if he would consider first
That as I stand to slake my thirst
I'm twenty paces, at the least,
Downstream of His Highness, he would see
There is no way that I could foul his drinking water."
"You foul it anywhere you stand," replied the beast.
"And last year you insulted me! I don't forget."
"But no," replied the lamb. "I wasn't born as yet.
I'm small, and I still suckle at my mother."
"Well, if not you it was your brother."
"But I don't have one." "Then it was another
Just like you. None of your race
Speaks well of me, not you, your shepherds or your dogs!
So, since you are not nice
To me you have to pay the price!"
And thereupon he drags
Her off into the forest, there to chaw
And swallow her, without restraint by any law.

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