THE DEAN'S ANSWER.
IN reading your letter alone in my hackney,
Your damnable riddle my poor brains did rack nigh.
And when with much labour the matter I crackt,
I found you mistaken in matter of fact.
A woman's no sieve (for with that you begin)
Because she lets out more than e'er she takes in.
And that she's a riddle can never be right,
For a riddle is dark, but a woman is light.
But, grant her a sieve, I can say something archer;
Pray what is a man? he's a fine linen searcher.
Now tell me a thing that wants interpretation,
What name for a maid[1], was the first man's damnation?
If your worship will please to explain me this rebus,
I swear from henceforward you shall be my Phœbus.
From my hackney coach, Sept. 11, 1719, past 12 at noon.
STELLA'S BIRTH DAY.
March 15, 1718-19.
STELLA this day is thirty-four,
(We sha'n't dispute a year or more)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled,
- ↑ A damsel, i. e. Adam's Hell.
