Nursery Rhyme. CCXII. Riddles.

        [A Cinder-sifter.]

    A riddle, a riddle, as I suppose,
    A hundred eyes, and never a nose.

        [A pen.]

    When I was taken from the fair body,
        They then cut off my head,
        And thus my shape was altered;
    It's I that make peace between king and king,
        And many a true lover glad:
    All this I do and ten times more,
        And more I could do still,
    But nothing can I do,
        Without my guider's will.

        [A Well.]

    As round as an apple, as deep as a cup,
    And all the king's horses can't pull it up.

        [An egg.]

    In marble walls as white as milk,
    Lined with a skin as soft as silk;
    Within a fountain crystal clear,
    A golden apple doth appear.
    No doors there are to this strong-hold.
    Yet things break in and steal the gold.

        [A star.]

    I have a little sister, they call her peep, peep;
    She wades the waters deep, deep, deep;
    She climbs the mountains high, high, high;
    Poor little creature she has but one eye.

    Pease-porridge hot, pease-porridge cold,
    Pease-porridge in the pot, nine days old.
    Spell me that without a P,
    And a clever scholar you will be.