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HOME AMUSEMENTS.

CHARADE XVII.

OR 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.

 

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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.