My second’s a part of a smart lady’s dress,
Yet on age it may also be found;
Again, ’tis a garb when the heart feels distress—
And my whole does with pleasure abound.
216. Why are children at play like a bird in her nest?
217.
My first is male or female, young or old,
’Tis very sad if you are forced to doubt one;
Much must we pity the false heart or cold,