351. BURIED PLACES
What geographical names are buried in these lines?
He has my R. N. as a monogram
I am her stupid sister.
The calmest man is sometimes made irate.
352.
My first’s a fruit of foreign clime,
Sweet to the taste, in price not dear;
My second does my first produce,
And yet my whole my first doth bear.
353. AN ENIGMA
A thing of beauty, scattered by a breath,
My firm embrace is harbinger of death;
Not made by hands, a work of wondrous art,
Complete and perfected in every part;
Crush me to-day with all-determined care,
Then look to-morrow, and I shall be there!