RIDDLES. 67

And some of us are often seen
In chamber, tower, or hall.

We've breath, but neither lungs nor voice,
Nor have we eye nor ear;

Though we possess the special knack
Of making dark things clear.

One of our brethren attends
Duly on sick men’s beds;
And, by his cheerful influence round,
A gleam of comfort sheds.
Another always ready stands
To visit cot or stable;
But, ’tis our cousins that abound
About a rich man’s table.

When summer comes with scorching beam,
The rabble seem to flout us;
In winter all men will confess,
They cannot do without us.
On wise or learned, great or small,
A blessing we bestow;
And this you have so often proved,
That sure our name you know.