[26]
MY first, though scrutinized with close inspections
Is found above all human imperfections.
I hold it in my hand,—yet though polite,
’T is of no use to me while in my sight.
But still ’tis felt, and in my secret soul
Upon reflection, I commend my whole.
Now nothing can describe my second better
Than the last part of a well-written letter.
My whole cannot escape his fate so sad,
Tradition tells us all his race goes mad.
[27]
MY first ’s a sum of money that I have never seen
Though I have earned it often and spent it too, I ween.
When money is my second ’t is often hard to get;
My second is a pretty sight, although it ’s rather wet.
My whole ’s a sad misfortune caused by a summer rain;
It makes much trouble in my first, and goes against the grain.