lo, i desire! sum of the ages’ growth—

fruit of evolving—king of life—

i, holding in myself the outgrown past

in all its ever-rising forms—desire.

with the first grass-blade, i desire the sun;

with every bird that breathes, i love the air;

with fishes, joy in water; with my horse,

exult in motion; with all living flesh,

long for sweet food and warmth and mate and young;

with the whole rising tide of that which is,

thirst for advancement,—crave and yearn for it!

yea, i desire! then the compelling will

urges to action to attain desire.

what action? which desire? am i a plant,

rooted and helpless, following the light

without volition? or am i a beast,

led by desire into the hunter’s snare?

am i a savage, swayed by every wish,

brutal and feeble, a ferocious child?

stand back, desire, and put your plea in words.

no wordless wailing for the summer moon,

no gilpin race on some strong appetite,

stand here before the king, and make your plea.

if reason sees it just, you have your wish;

if not, your wish is vain, plead as you will.

the court is open, beggar! i am king!