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A poem by Thomas S. Jones

The Sport Of A God

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Title:     The Sport Of A God
Author: Thomas S. Jones [More Titles by Jones]

Though they say Jove laughs at the lover's vow--
At the lover's vow that must break some day--
Still we smiled as we loved in a distant May
When the blooms were heavy upon the bough.

O, the mocking difference of then and now!
It isn't a thought that will make one gay,
Though they say Jove laughs at the lover's vow--
At the lover's vow that must break some day.

Yet, perhaps, the god knows the best way how
To carry a mask when the feet are clay;
So I too shall laugh at the merry play,
For down in his heart there's a knife, I trow,
Though they say Jove laughs at the lover's vow.





[The end]
Thomas S. Jones's poem: Sport Of A God

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