MY First is singular at best:More plural is my Second:My Third is far the pluralest –So plural-plural, I protestIt scarcely can be reckoned!My First is followed by a bird:My Second by believersIn magic art: my simple ThirdFollows, too often, hopes absurdAnd plausible deceivers.My First to get at wisdom tries –A failure melancholy!My Second men revered as wise:My Third from heights of wisdom fliesTo depths of frantic folly.My First is ageing day by day:My Second's age is ended:My Third enjoys an age, they say,That never seems to fade away,Through centuries extended.My Whole? I need a poet's penTo paint her myriad phases:The monarch, and the slave, of men –A mountain-summit, and a denOf dark and deadly mazes –A flashing light – a fleeting shade –Beginning, end, and middleOf all that human art hath madeOr wit devised! Go, seek HER aid,If you would read my riddle!<p>Fame's Penny Trumpet</p>
Affectionately dedicated to all original researchers who pant for endowment.
