The Fool's Prayer - An Encounter With Edward Sill

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!'