The Poetry Corner

Desire And Possession 1727

By Jonathan Swift

'Tis strange what different thoughts inspire In men, Possession and Desire! Think what they wish so great a blessing; So disappointed when possessing! A moralist profoundly sage (I know not in what book or page, Or whether o'er a pot of ale) Related thus the following tale. Possession, and Desire, his brother, But still at variance with each other, Were seen contending in a race; And kept at first an equal pace; 'Tis said, their course continued long, For this was active, that was strong: Till Envy, Slander, Sloth, and Doubt, Misled them many a league about; Seduced by some deceiving light, They take the wrong way for the right; Through slippery by-roads, dark and deep, They often climb, and often creep. Desire, the swifter of the two, Along the plain like lightning flew: Till, entering on a broad highway, Where power and titles scatter'd lay, He strove to pick up all he found, And by excursions lost his ground: No sooner got, than with disdain He threw them on the ground again; And hasted forward to pursue Fresh objects, fairer to his view, In hope to spring some nobler game; But all he took was just the same: Too scornful now to stop his pace, He spurn'd them in his rival's face. Possession kept the beaten road, And gather'd all his brother strew'd; But overcharged, and out of wind, Though strong in limbs, he lagg'd behind. Desire had now the goal in sight; It was a tower of monstrous height; Where on the summit Fortune stands, A crown and sceptre in her hands; Beneath, a chasm as deep as Hell, Where many a bold adventurer fell. Desire, in rapture, gazed awhile, And saw the treacherous goddess smile; But as he climb'd to grasp the crown, She knock'd him with the sceptre down! He tumbled in the gulf profound; There doom'd to whirl an endless round. Possession's load was grown so great, He sunk beneath the cumbrous weight; And, as he now expiring lay, Flocks every ominous bird of prey; The raven, vulture, owl, and kite, At once upon his carcass light, And strip his hide, and pick his bones, Regardless of his dying groans.