DLTK's Poems
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!
"'T is not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
'T is 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!"
