We live convinced of choices freely made
As almost all men do. But what, I ask,
Could prove that all is not ordained before?
If science built machines that followed rules
They would believe that reason drove them on.
Thus men, if they could step beyond the sphere,
Would see their moves controlled like men
Upon the checkered board. Some pawns, few kings,
But none of their own choosing. Life promotes
And captures of its own free determined will.
Do gods then play their simple games with us?
What manner of beings watch me now as I
Do founder in a sea of thought? Which god
Does wonder at the wandering script whose player
Now strides before his eyes? Is where I go
When morrow comes now known? I think it so.
All life must run but forward into death
Oblivious to pain, desire, and love.
It never skips a frame nor runs reverse.
Effects are churned by causes; Future is
Determined by the past. If I had sight
I could now see me moving forward fast
To places where I must needs tomorrow be.
Without a doubt the gods are bored with life
By knowing everything that will occur;
They prick us with events that make us jump
And yelp with pain for their amusing jests.
Why punish men themselves along this trip?
'Tis fate that darkly steers our lively ship.