There was once a man who was skilful
At making a salve which kept the hands
From getting chapped in cold waters,
And his family for generations had made
The bleaching of cocoon-silk their trade.
A stranger heard of it and proposed to buy
The family art of the salve preparation
For a round hundred ounces of silver.
At night the kindred all came together
And considered the proposal. "We have,"
Said they, "been bleaching cocoon-silk
For generations and have only gained
A little money. Now in one morning
We can sell to this stranger our patent
For a round hundred ounces, so let's do it!"
No sooner said than done--the stranger
Accordingly got it and went away with it
To give counsel to the king of the state
Who was then engaged in hostilities
With his neighbours. The king gave him
The command of his fleet and in the winter
He led his well-protected men
From getting chapped in ice-cold waters
Of the rough seas and stormy salted winds.
He had an engagement with the enemy,
On which he inflicted a great defeat
And was invested with a large portion
Of territory taken from the defeated.
The keeping the hands safely intact
From getting chapped was the same
In both cases, but in the one it led
To the investiture of the possessor
Of the salve, and in the other it had
Only enabled its owners to continue
Their trade of bleaching cocoon-silk.
The difference of result was owing
To the different use made of the art.
John
I believe the word is "defeated" rather than defeatist, but it's your call as the poet.
Ron