“I’m killed, sire!” And his chief beside,
Smiling the boy fell dead.
THE FOOL’S PRAYER
By Edward Roland Sill
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!”
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the monarch’s silken stool;