one of Tim's favorites

from Daniel Defoe...

Nature has left this tincture in the blood,
That all men would be tyrants if they could:
If they forbear their neighbours to devour,
'Tis not for want of will, but want of power;
The general plague infects the very race,
Pride in his heart, and tyrant in his face;
The characters are legible and plain,
And perfectly describe the monster, man.

Nor can he otherwise be understood,
We'd all be emperors, 'tis in our blood;
Ambition knows no bounds: the meanest hand,
If once let loose, would power itself command;
Would storm the skies, the thund'rer there dethrone,
Be universal lord, and call the world his own.

(and there's even more to the poem!)

Thank you, Mr. Defoe and Google  :-)