But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays
Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days;
Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
This quatrain is translated from O. 94.
To speak plain language, and not in parables,
We are the pieces and heaven plays the game,
We are played together in a baby-game upon the chess-board of existence,
And one by one we return to the box of non-existence.
Ref.: O. 94, C. 280, L. 443, B. 439, S.P. 230, P. 31, B. ii. 291, T. 183, P. v. 10.—W. 270, N. 231, E.C. 27, V. 480.
The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes
But Here or There as strikes the Player goes;
And He that toss'd you down into the Field,
He knows about it all—HE knows—HE knows!
This quatrain is translated from C. 422.
O thou who art driven like a ball by the mallet of Fate,
Go to the right or take the left, but say nothing;[74]
For He who set thee running and galloping
He knows, he knows, he knows, he——.
Ref.: C. 422, L. 633, B. 625, P. 167, B. ii. 462, T. 274.—W. 401, V. 682.