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RIDDLE CLIY.
S it demanded where I dwell?

J answer, in a costly cell,
Reclined upon my mother’s bed,
Where I am nursed and duly fed;
But if I quit this loved retreat,

I’m honoured by the rich and great:
The lovely fair of me possest,

Will clasp me to her snowy breast;
And oft I prove the purest gem
Found in a royal diadem.

 

RIDDLE CLY.

TIXIS in the church, but not in the steeple;
’Tis in the parson, but not in the people;

*Tis in the oyster, but not in the shell;

Tis in the clapper, but not in the bell.

 

RIDDLE CLVI.

QHARP is my form, my nature sharper found,
When I am forced to give the fatal wound;

Steep’d in black venom, then I strike the heart,

And keenest pains with slightest touch impart,