Riddles are short poems or texts that ask a question that seems difficult to answer. The following famous riddle by Catherine Fanshawe is talking about something, but what is it?
Special note - this riddle uses the following (old-fashioned) contractions:
'twas = it was
'tis = it is
'twill = it will
o'er = over
e'en = even
--
'Twas whispered in Heaven,
'Twas muttered in Hell,
And echo caught faintly
The sound as it fell;
On the confines of Earth,
'Twas permitted to rest,
And the depth of the ocean
Its presence confessed;
'Twill be found in the sphere
When 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning
And heard in the thunder.
'Twas allotted to man
With his earliest breath,
Attends him at birth
And awaits him at death,
Presides o'er his happiness,
Honour and health,
Is the prop of his house
And the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser,
'Tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost
By the prodigal heir;
It begins every hope,
Every wish it must bound,
It prays with the hermit,
With monarchs is crowned;
Without it the soldier,
The sailor may roam,
But woe to the wretch
Who expels it from home!
In the whisper of conscience
'Tis sure to be found,
Nor e'en in the whirlwind
Of passion is drowned;
'Twill soften the heart,
But though deaf to the ear,
It will make it acutely
And instantly hear.
But in short, let it rest
Like a delicate flower,
Oh, breathe on it softly,
It dies in an hour!
(written by Catherine Fanshawe)
Comments
I am very sorry but I do not like the answer because the poem seems to be so ironic to be just describing the lettre 'h'. I've read the poem more than five times to understand it and find out the answer. :/
@Joseph,you are right!
It wasnot an easy riddle,and without our friends I'm not sure if I could have puzzled this out,but as it is my habit to read every comment of the blogs too,so it was quickly clear to me...cool
!
Dear Josef,
I like the sound of old-fashioned contractions sometimes. It makes me think a little with wonder...
Thanks for sharing them with us.
Good day!
-Lynne-
First rate!Thank you for sharing!
I think that Nida has ciphered out the mystery already:))
Oh, I got it! Thanks for sharing. Someone who wrote this or who guessed right must be a genius!
Yes, it is the letter H, as James cleverly found here. SiriA - you can find it written in many different ways on the web but what I posted is I believe the original. (It does indeed soften the "heart". Otherwise heart would sound like "art", which is a hard sound.) James - you are right, it could do with some explanation and I will try to add asap. It dies in an hour because it is not pronounced (silent). It is lost by the heir for the same reason.
However, I still don't get the meaning of the letter 'H' as an answer...how & why?
It says 'the famous riddle', then what's the riddle? What kind of riddle does this poem actually indicate? If this is really the answer, what's got to do with the actual question? What else is there any links with?
I think we need some explanation for sure.... to be understood correctly.
What is it? Answer: the letter H
'Twas whispered in Heaven,
'Twas muttered in Hell,
And echo caught faintly
The sound as it fell;
On the confines of Earth,
'Twas permitted to rest,
And the depth of the ocean
Its presence confessed;
'Twill be found in the sphere
When 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning
And heard in the thunder.
'Twas allotted to man
With his earliest breath,
Attends him at birth
And awaits him at death,
Presides o'er his happiness,
Honour and health,
Is the prop of his house
And the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser,
'Tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost
By the prodigal heir;
It begins every hope,
Every wish it must bound,
It prays with the hermit,
With monarchs is crowned;
Without it the soldier,
The sailor may roam,
But woe to the wretch
Who expels it from home!
In the whisper of conscience
'Tis sure to be found,
Nor e'en in the whirlwind
Of passion is drowned;
'Twill soften the heart,
But though deaf to the ear,
It will make it acutely
And instantly hear.
But in short, let it rest
Like a delicate flower,
Oh, breathe on it softly,
It dies in an hour!
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