DID they but know how great a prize
My first, well used, would send ;
Those mortals now who most despise,
Would claim it for their friend.

But thoughtless youth too soon is pleased,
And apt to wander wrong;
And by my second's aid gets eased
Of that which seem'd so long.

And you, ye fair, who trifling spend
The fleeting hours of time,
The warning of my whole attend,
And so improve your prime.

K

CHARADE XVII.

For thee, my first, what risks are run!
How many thousands are undone !
My next a trusty guard at night,
To ward off harm till morning light :
My whole oft decks a blooming bride,
At once her ornament and pride.

CHARADE XVIII.

My first-yet how shall I express
What language ne'er explained?
Ah! no; let Anna's eyes confess
Where its warm influence reigned.

My second, in a leathern case,
Oft journeys many a mile;
And bears to many a distant place
Affection's anxious smile.

My whole the softest language speaks,
That fancy can impart :

It paints with blushes Anna's cheeks, But triumphs o'er her heart.

My first, you must own, is intended to bring
All urgent despatches of state to the king;
The peasant, the postman, the farmer, and 'squire,
Declare that my first they all greatly admire ;
And even the soldier with joy will proclaim,
It help'd to procure him the trumpet of fame.
Again, I protest, 'tis a bit of dry wood,
That oft in the kitchen unmoved has long stood,
But now at the fire I will give it a station,
And then it shall rise to a high elevation;

Though warmth to my first no one good can supply,
Yet oft it assists in keeping things dry.

My second with silver is sometimes bedeck'd,
Yet at others I've seen it all spotted and speck'd;

"Tis satin and silver, united together;
Again, I have known it composed of red leather.
My whole by a metal becomes a defence,
Protecting a part without feeling or sense.

CHARADE XX.

My first is a prop; my second is a prop; my whole is nothing else than a prop.

CHARADE XXI.

My first, with more than Quaker's pride,
At your most solemn duty,

You keep, nor deign to throw aside,

E'en though it veils your beauty.

My second, on your cheek or lip
May kindle Cupid's fire;
While from your eye or nose's tip
It ne'er provokes desire.

But if my third you entertain

For your unhappy poet,

In mercy, Chloe, spare

his pain,

Nor ever let him know it.

CHARADE XXII.

My first's the composer of care,

That corrodes the recess of the heart; Again, 'tis a foe to the fair,

And has blunted the edge of love's dart.

My second, though clear to my mind,
I have not a term to express;

"Tis a part and a whole, which you'll find May be used in the forming a dress.

If indolence point at delay,

To my whole I would have you apply; "Twill prove that old Time will not stay, But mows with his scythe till we die.