 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
Charade No. 10.
My
first dwells in the torrid zone,
Its beauty and its boon,
Yet this the Esquimaux must own
Beneath an Arctic moon.
Its beauty and its boon,
Yet this the Esquimaux must own
Beneath an Arctic moon.
He who would do it is untrue,
Though all in every land
To bear it off in strife desire,
It always is at hand.
Though all in every land
To bear it off in strife desire,
It always is at hand.
My first and next in days of yore
Went forth in lowly guise:
A staff was theirs, but little store
Of what the world would prize.
Went forth in lowly guise:
266
Of what the world would prize.
Yet one, alas! in later days,
With murder on his brow,
Revealed how far in guilty ways
A child of earth may go.
With murder on his brow,
Revealed how far in guilty ways
A child of earth may go.
My last I think you'll quickly name
In half a minute more;
Are twenty hundreds quite the same
As just a hundred score?
In half a minute more;
Are twenty hundreds quite the same
As just a hundred score?
For if you say what each would be,
The name you will have got;
And yet, reversing, you will see
That surely it is not.
The name you will have got;
And yet, reversing, you will see
That surely it is not.
My whole I leave without debate,
For 'tis not woman's mission
To criticise the wise and great
And play the politician.
For 'tis not woman's mission
To criticise the wise and great
And play the politician.
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |