Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
Poems of Sentiment: II. LifeThe Fools Prayer
Edward Rowland Sill (18411887)T
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: “Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!”
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
Upon the monarch’s silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: “O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
From red with wrong to white as wool:
The rod must heal the sin; but, Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
’T is by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung!
The word we had not sense to say—
Who knows how grandly it had rung!
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders—oh, in shame
Before the eyes of heaven we fall.
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool.”
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
“Be merciful to me, a fool!”