reads thus:—I rate you lower than a man, above a beast. Know between you and me I am above the rest.
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28
The charade—
My first, thou knowest, was in ancient Rome,
Rome’s fate my next, and one that all may dread.
Long may it be before that fate shall come
And sever with my whole thy life’s last thread!
is solved by Scissors (Lat. scis, thou knowest; sors, a lot).
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29
The poets’ names buried in the lines—
The sun is darting rays of gold
Upon the moor, enchanting spot;
Whose purpled heights, by Ronald loved,
Up open to his shepherd cot.