The Fool’s Prayer
The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: “Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!”
The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the Monarch’s silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: “O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
“No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
“’Tis not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
’Tis by our follies that so long
We hold the Earth from Heaven away.
“These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.
“The ill-timed truth we might have kept -
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say -
Who knows how grandly it had rung!
“Our faults no tenderness should ask.
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders - oh, in shame
Before the eyes of Heaven we fall.
“Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!”
The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
“Be merciful to me, a fool!”
by Edward R. Sill (1841 - 1887): as published in Jessie B. Rittenhouse, editor: “The Little Book of American Poets: 1787 - 1900” (1915)
Edward Rowland Sill was born on 29 April 1841 in Windsor, Connecticut, United States of America. He graduated from Yale in 1861, studied biology at Harvard, did literary work in New York City, taught school in California and Ohio, and was for eight years professor of English language and literature at the University of California. His poems were privately printed under the title, “The Hermitage and Other Poems” (1868) and in other works. Edward Rowland Sill passed on at 45 years of age on 27 February 1887 in Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America.
The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: “Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!”
The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the Monarch’s silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: “O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
“No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
“’Tis not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
’Tis by our follies that so long
We hold the Earth from Heaven away.
“These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.
“The ill-timed truth we might have kept -
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say -
Who knows how grandly it had rung!
“Our faults no tenderness should ask.
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders - oh, in shame
Before the eyes of Heaven we fall.
“Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!”
The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
“Be merciful to me, a fool!”
by Edward R. Sill (1841 - 1887): as published in Jessie B. Rittenhouse, editor: “The Little Book of American Poets: 1787 - 1900” (1915)
Edward Rowland Sill was born on 29 April 1841 in Windsor, Connecticut, United States of America. He graduated from Yale in 1861, studied biology at Harvard, did literary work in New York City, taught school in California and Ohio, and was for eight years professor of English language and literature at the University of California. His poems were privately printed under the title, “The Hermitage and Other Poems” (1868) and in other works. Edward Rowland Sill passed on at 45 years of age on 27 February 1887 in Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America.
