Frederick Philip Grove
THOUGHTS
(IM 1-14)

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e-Edition by Gaby Divay
© August 2007

University of Manitoba Libraries	FPG & FrL Collections	University of Manitoba Archives

THE GODS[9] by Frederick Philip Grove "As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; "They kill us for their sport."[10] Ah, were't but so! Then could I still believe That there were some sense left in this drear life: That Atropos, she with the bitter knife, Knew what she was about. I could relieve The anguish of my heart by blasphemies And scoffings against those who sit secure As lookers-on and laugh as we endure Birth, life, and death, and kindred flippancies. Were it but so! I could at least rebel, Defy, and rear against the stinging lash, Provoking them to let their thunders crash And by brute might my impotence to quell. But it is not so! They, as we, are blind And cannot see where leads their unled dance. Above them, dangling, hangs the Spider Chance And spins no meaning, balm to soul or mind. In Memoriam 2