A wolf and lamb once chanced to meet,
Beside a stream, whose waters sweet
Brought various kinds of beasts together,
When dry and sultry was the weather;
Now though the wolf came there to _drink_,
Of _eating_, he began to think,
As soon as near the lamb he came,
And straight resolved to kill the same;
Yet thought it better to begin,
With threat'ning words and angry mien.
"And so," said he, to him below,
"How dare you stir the water so?
Making the cool refreshing flood,
As brown as beer, and thick as mud."
"Sir," said the lamb, "that cannot be,
The water flows _from you to me_;
So, 'tis impossible, I think,
That what I do can spoil your drink."
"I say it does, you saucy puss:
How dare you contradict me thus;
But more than this, you idle clack,
You rail'd at me behind my back
Two years ago, I have been told;"
"How so? I'm not a twelvemonth old,"
The lamb replied; "So I suspect
Your honor is not quite correct."
"If not, your mother it must be,
And that comes all the same to me,"
Rejoined the wolf--who waited not
But kill'd and ate him on the spot.