My second syllable backward is the worst thing in the world.
[28]
I am but small, yet when entire,
Enough to set the world on fire.
Leave out a letter, and ’tis clear
I can maintain a herd of deer.
Leave out another, and you’ll find
I once have saved all human kind.
[29]
In full dress, I am considered finished; take off my cap, and I am a number; put on my cap and take off my shoes, and I am a title.
[30]
I’m seven letters; and I name
A man, who does high office claim.
Decapitate me, and I still
Survive, you’ll find, a tale to tell;
Again behead, I tell of gladness;
Again—I oft am cause of sadness;
Once more, and still I live to say
What you, no doubt, did yesterday;
Beheaded yet once more, I name
Yourself, in tongue of classic fame;
At last, of all but one bereft,
That one a Latin word is left.
[31]
Without me man is incomplete,
A friend I am to you;
But for my aid I’m very sure
That little work you’d do.
But if to what I now possess,
One letter you should add,
You’ll see what mischief I can do
Whene’er my master’s mad.