University of Virginia Library

A Riddle.

No longer blame those on the Banks of Nile,
If they ador'd the rav'nous Crocodile;
Nor think the Indians mad who worship Apes,
Serpents and Idols in such monstrous Shapes;
Since all Mankind to me does Homage pay,
More rav'nous, fatal, and deform'd than they:
To me their purest Blood they sacrifice,
Yet all they do ne'er can my Rage suffice.
Infants each day within my Vaults expire,
And Men oft perish by my Altars Fire.
All rough I am, and hideous to the sight,
Yet Man in me has plac'd his chief Delight;
Enough of me he thinks he ne'er can seize,
And yet the less I am the more I please.
Calling my self deform'd, sure I mistake,
Since I the chiefest part of Beauty make.
But I compos'd of Contradictions am,
Th'Original of Impudence and Shame,
'Tis I that kindle and then quench the Flame.
I feel the greatest Pleasure, greatest Pain,
When closest cover'd most expos'd to Rain;
Of the most noble Plant the only Field,
But bear the less the oftner I am till'd.
The last of Nature's numerous Works I am,
Yet first in Power, and wonderful in Frame.
For tho I seem so gentle, weak, and small,
The strongest yield, stoutest before me fall;
Of me th'Extremes none reach, tho ne'er so tall.
My only Friend, my greatest Grief and Joy,
Oft stabs me, and I him as oft destroy.
Between th'Herculean Pillars I am set,
Where all Men have their Ne plus ultra met:
My Name is hid, as I am from your Eyes;
If you ne'er seek me out I'll count you wise.