The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop :: :: University of Virginia Library

Bravo! Bravo!—methinks you have ventur'd a flight,
Where mere common sense could scarce keep you in sight:
And therefore, permit me my theme to pursue,
While you get fresh breath, and your auditors too!
Attention, strain'd up to the sharps of your key,
Will enjoy the piano of Riddle-me-ree!

I cannot, 'tis true, introduce in a set,
All the figures of fun, at a riddling bout met;

301

From the dame, whose experience, her spectacles speak,
Whose wisdom, each wrinkle that furrows her cheek;
To the tittering young romps, whose whole mischievous wish
Is to non-plus the lads, till they're mute as a fish;
And the swains, who the hearts of the hoydens to hit,
Come arm'd with two strings to their bow, love and wit:
Neither can I describe (as I wonder who cou'd)
Every look, every laugh, every droll attitude;
Their inquisitive frowns; their intelligent nods;
How vivacity frets; how stupidity plods;
How clamorous their joy, when the knot they undo!—
O! what would I give to bring all to your view!
But, as that may not be, I must hope and request,
You'll accept will, for deed,—and imagine the rest.

All the learned, however they differ elsewhere,
That example is better than precept, declare:
And to prove I myself with their doctrine agree,
In a Riddle I'll show what a Riddle should be.

302

In the form of inquiry it still must begin;
For question and riddle are cousin and kin.

What is that, which in see-saw description convey'd,
The more hints it displays, the more puzzling is made?
Which seems leading you home, while it carries you round;
And pretending to help, runs you farther aground;
A dark lantern of wit, which tho' black in the face,
Bursts point blank on your eyes, if the screen you displace;
Which the moment you see, you're surpris'd you could miss?
—Say what, but a Riddle on Riddles is this?—

What is that situation, whose limits, I trow,
Like an isthmus of land, lie between aye and no?
Whose variable atmosphere makes on the spot,
The hottest, most cool; and the coolest, most hot?
'Tis the Riddle of State, past all shadow of doubt:
And means only the odds, between in place and out.

What is that, which in prospect appears to the sight
As certain as fate; and as clear as the light?

303

Draws us on step by step, thro' demurs and delays;
And at last when our hopes to their summit we raise,
While we think ourselves safe, ruins all with some flaw?
—Why this is, and please you, the Riddle of Law.

What is that, which in every direction is found?
East; west; north; and south; while a man can turn round?
What to-day it admires, will to-morrow deem strange?
And whose changes prompt only fresh reasons for change?
Which grinds judgments, styles, modes, in the mill of Virtù;
Till the new come out old, and the old come out new?
—This is Taste, to be sure;—and such taste, you must own,
Is as arrant a Riddle, as ever was known.

And now, wishing Ode well, thro' the rest of his song,
And thanking all friends for indulgence so long,
I'll play off my finalè to this Hey-down diddle;
And so ends my Ditty; and so—Exit Riddle.