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 REBEL'S CONFESSION OF FAITH[18] by Frederick Philip Grove I cannot live, a stranger to my time, With dead cosmogonies, in creeds out-worn;[19] Cannot receive concepts of the sublime By which a child-like age was upward borne. I cannot laud in many a storied[20] deed Heroic greatness or a god-like aim; Cannot agree that every anxious need Finds[21] a relief provided for its claim. I cannot think when we feel crushed and weak That our afflictions visit us, a test[22] To prove[23] us humble, suppliant, and meek;[24] Nor[25] that all things are ordered for the best. I cannot worship, in this[26] universe, A deeply pondered and benevolent plan, Laid out, in charity, to reimburse For his distress this writhing creature, man. And would not if I could. I must[27] decline Thus to be mothered by a providence Whose kindness is less provident than mine, Whose justice is but bartering recompense[28]. I'd rather have my weakness than[29] its strength; I'd rather stand, a beggar, on my own Than in reward receive the breadth and length Of worlds or kingdoms for a lowly moan.[30] My needs I'd rather on[31] an anvil place And forge to protests with great hammer-blows; The yearnings of my heart I would retrace In rhyme and rhythm[32] more lovely than the rose. I would, a rebel[33], glory in the fray And labour to my last and gasping breath To live beyond myself, if but a day, To challenge and defy the tyrant Death. In Memoriam 4