It
was in Law School that I met Edward Rowland Sill. No, Sill was not a Law
student. He was not one of my law professors. Sill was not even a Nigerian. He
was an American. And by the time I encountered him he was already dead for more
than a century.
I
had gone for breakfast at Calabar Kitchen behind D Block. Take it from me, you
need a full African breakfast to withstand seven hours of legal lectures. At
the entrance of the restaurant, I saw two kids – no, they were not law
students. They must be children of the owner of the restaurant. They were
playing with a hardcover brown book. At first glance, I thought it was Okoye on
Civil Procedure. (Of course you remember Nwabueze
v. Obi-Okoye now.)
I
approached them and collected the book. They were on the verge of
tearing the pages. I looked at the title: One
Hundred and One Famous Poems. I opened it. That was when I met Edward
Rowland Sill. One thing I was sure of immediately I opened the book was that I
was going to keep it.
The
challenge was how to take the book from the kids. As a law student, I knew it
was not proper to just take the book like that. It would be illegal. As the
kids were kids, Infant Relief Act of 1874
came to my mind. They could not validly enter into a contract of sale with me.
Again, I was not sure of their title to the book. Upon enquiry, they told me
that they found the book under a nearby tree. I was not sure whether that would
satisfy the requirements of title under the Sales
of Goods Act of 1893. I made a
mental note to check later.
As a
compromise, we agreed that they would lend me the book. To ensure that the
contract was valid in law, I gave them a token. You have to be very careful in
law school. Everything must be done properly. We shook hands. I collected the
book. They collected my money. They didn't give me a receipt. I didn't ask for one.
From
that moment I became hooked. Edward Sill was like no other poet. His words were
punchy. His imagery was vivid. I read and read. My roommates, Akeem Balogun and
Abodun Badiora suffered in silence as I read and dramatized the poems to them.
Two
days later the honeymoon was over. I was on my way to the class when I saw the
notice on the board. Apparently the owner of the book – a co-student – forgot
the book at Calabar Kitchen after a delicious meal of edikaikong with akpu!
With pain in my heart, I returned the book to the rightful owner. He was
delirious with happiness. He hugged me! That’s what a good book does to you.
Today, Edward Sill is available online. I commend his works to you. In the meantime, let me leave you with one of his
best poems, The Fool's Prayer.
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!'
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!'
Maybe because I'm not a lawyer, I don't have a full understanding of the poem. Kindly help a brother
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading the poem of Edward Sill. The King wanted to make fun of the Palace Jester, so he asked the Jester (Mr. Fool), to pray for them. But instead of praying like a fool, the Jester prayed solemnly for God to be merciful to him because of his human weakness. The poem highlights the weakness of Man and that we are all fools who deserve God's mercy. The King was so moved by the prayer that he himself realised that he was also a fool. Read it again now, slowly. You now understand it? Good.
DeleteThis is a beautiful summary of this poem. Thank you for sharing your thoughts! In His Mercy
DeleteYou write so beautifully,reading your stories feels like sitting beside a calm flowing rivèr in the cool of the evening and funny enough it sets my heart longing for my lost love of reading and writing stories. Mj
ReplyDeleteYou are totally a blessing to the readers of your generation. I really enjoyed your handiwork.
ReplyDeleteI am humbled by your kind words. Thank you very much.
DeleteI am hooked on this blog, I swear. Onigegewura brought to fore an inner me, am a lawyer I read history in the university and later left to read law, however I always love history in which I made an A1 at the O levels and B in HSC I also always assume myself to love poems though it takes me repeated readings to comprehend most. Its a deja vu
ReplyDeleteI am hooked on this blog, I swear. Onigegewura brought to fore an inner me, am a lawyer I read history in the university and later left to read law, however I always love history in which I made an A1 at the O levels and B in HSC I also always assume myself to love poems though it takes me repeated readings to comprehend most. Its a deja vu
ReplyDeleteYou are a genius. You deserve Nobel award. Keep it up
ReplyDeleteYou are indeed an inspiration
ReplyDeleteYou are indeed an inspiration
ReplyDeleteFrom the moment i stumbled on the blog,i have become an addict, am so much in love with the history,not a history student though, but i love history thank you onigegewura for this, God bless your work.
ReplyDeletethank you for onigegewura for all this history, not a student of history though, but love history. God bless your work.
ReplyDelete