O god, our Father, if we had but truth!
  Lost truth—which thou perchance
Didst let man lose, lest all his wayward youth
  He waste in song and dance;
That he might gain, in searching, mightier powers
For manlier use in those foreshadowed hours.

...

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...