THE RIDDLE.
I'm not in youth, nor in manhood, nor age,
But in infancy ever am known;
I'm a stranger alike to the fool and the sage,
And though I'm distinguished in history's page,
I always am greatest alone.
I'm not in the earth, nor the sun, nor the moon,
You may search all the sky—I'm not there;
In the morning and evening—tho' not in the noon,
You may plainly perceive me, for like a balloon,
I am midway suspended in air.
I am always in riches and yet I am told,
Wealth did ne'er my presence desire;
I dwell with the miser, but not with his gold,
And sometimes I stand in the chimney so cold,
Though I serve as a part of the fire.
I often am met in political life—
In my absence no kingdom can be;
And they say there can neither be friendship nor strife,
No one can live single, no one take a wife,
Without interfering with me.
My brethren are many, and of my whole race,
No one is more slender and tall;
And though not the eldest, I hold the first place,
And even in dishonor, despair, and disgrace,
I boldly appear 'mong them all.
Though disease may possess me, and sickness and pain,
I am never in sorrow or gloom;
Though in wit and wisdom I equally reign,
I'm the heart of sin, and have long lived in vain,
And I ne'er shall be found in the tomb!