YE Nine, descend from your Aonian hill,
And deign to guide a minor's humble quill,
Who now commences, in a first effort
To please the fair and aid their Christmas sport;
Begs their attention to his mystic lore,
And hopes to tell a tale ne'er told before.
To boast of birth were spending time in vain
Ere Moses liv'd, began my direful reign,
And since, I've oft been seen at various times,
In diff'rent nations and in diff'rent climes.
Though 'tis a long, for you a happy while,
Since I've been seen upon this favour'd isle,
When I appear, how dreadful is my rage!
How keenly felt by ev'ry sex and age!
If slaughter make a hero, sure I'm one,
Though I ne'er battles gain'd, nor vict'ries won;
If it were slaughter that raised Cæsar's name,
Than Cæsar I am greater far in fame.
But though when whole (as I have said before)
I seldom visit famed Britannia's shore,
Yet, when one third is taken from my name,
I then am known to many a British dame.
When whole, I often sweep both dale and hill-
Disjoin'd, I'm mostly found by some cool rill;
Or in some town placed low in boggy ground,
Or else, perhaps, by marshes compass'd round ;
And should ye chance near water e'er to stray,
Beyond the limits of refulgent day,
'Tis not unlikely, after such a roam,
That I, with pallid hue, attend you home.
DEEP in the bosom of the earth,
I lie conceal'd from sight,
Till man, who ransacks nature through,
Displays my form to light.
Yet, when I first salute the view,
I'm rude and void of use;
Till frost, which other objects binds,
Assists to set me loose.
Then, polish'd by the artist's hands,
In wood I'm closely bound;
And where fair learning calls her sons,
My ready help is found.
To me the sciences are known;
In Algebra I shine,
In Mathematics often deal,
And make each problem mine.
To me the wisest heads submit,
The deepest scholars bend;
And, though I neither read nor write,
I'm learning's common friend.
Of neither sense nor love possess'd,
The strongest sense I aid;
Relieve the mem'ry of its load,
And ease the studious head
Yet soon my knowledge is effaced,
And ev'ry trace is lost;
And oft again I'm fill'd with lore,
Nor feel the conscious boast.
To a word of consent, add one half of a fright; Next subjoin what you never beheld in the night : These rightly connected, you'll quickly obtain What numbers have seen, but will ne'er see again.
I from Siberia's frozen realms am brought,
Or in the wilds of Canada am sought:
But soon, by art, a domicile I form,
At once convenient, elegant, and warm.
Within the compass of this pretty cell,
But two inhabitants can hope to dwell;
Here, snug and warm, in spite of wind and weather,
They both may live most lovingly together.
When spring returns, with blooming flow'rets gay,
My fickle inmates from my shelter stray;
And through the summer months inconstant roam,
Till winter's cold recals the wanderers home.
My body's taper'd fine and neat,
I've but one eye, yet am complete ;
You'd judge me, by my equipage,
The greatest warrior of the age;
For when you have survey'd me round,
Nothing but steel is to be found;
Yet men I ne'er was known to kill,
Though ladies' blood I often spill.
My riddle, I trust, you 'll allow to express
A thing that is known to conceal;
And yet is a part in a fair lady's dress,
Which her beauties can never reveal.
My riddle again I shall now introduce;
Perhaps it will cause some surprise
When I tell you, Eliza, 'tis sometimes in use
The feelings to keep in disguise.
Do ever sensations arise in the heart,
Which the face, sympathetic, reveals?
My riddle possesses a wonderful art,
And all its impressions conceals.
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