A Riddle (#2) Poem by Joanna Baillie

A Riddle (#2)



INSCRIB'D on many a learned page,
In mystic characters and sage,
Long time my first has stood;
And though its golden age be past,
In wooden walls it yet may last,
Till cloth'd with flesh and blood.


My second is a glorious prize
For all who love their wondering eyes
With curious sights to pamper;
But 'tis a sight-which should they meet
All' improviso in the street,
Ye gods! how they would scamper!


My tout' s a sort of wandering throne,
To woman limited alone,
The Salique law reversing;
But while th' imaginary queen
Prepares to act this novel scene,
Her royal part rehearsing,
O'erturning her presumptuous plan,
Up climbs the old usurper-man,
And she jogs after as she can.

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