When Naboth'S Vineyard[1] Look'D So Fine, The King Cried Out, "Would This Were Mine!" And Yet No Reason Could Prevail To Bring The Owner To A Sale. Jezebel Saw, With Haughty Pride, How Ahab Grieved To Be Denied; And Thus Accosted Him With Scorn: "Shall Naboth Make A Monarch Mourn? A King, And Weep! The Ground'S Your Own; I'll Vest The Garden In The Crown." With That She Hatch'D A Plot, And Made Poor Naboth Answer With His Head; And When His Harmless Blood Was Spilt, The Ground Became His Forfeit Guilt.