Another, After Meat Poem by Rees Prichard

Why dost thou with such dainty fare,
O Lord, thy humble servants feed,
And take of us such ceaseless care,
Whilst others are in woeful need?

Why unto us, less than the least
Of all thy servants, such great store
Dost thou allow, yet leave the rest,
Our betters far, extremely poor?

For we ourselves must fairly own,
That we do not at all deserve,
That greater favour shou'd be shown
To us, than those who almost starve.

But thou, O Lord! out of thy love
And great benevolence, dost give
To us a portion, far above
What they have, who much better live!

In hopes no doubt that we shou'd give
Greater returns of praise to thee
Than they, on such mean fare who live,
And worship thee with bended knee.

Then let our gratitude now raise
(A tribute we shou'd ever pay!)
Our voices to our Maker's praise,
On ev'ry meal, and ev'ry day!