A Riddle
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Arabian Poetry, by W. A. Clouston, [1881], at sacred-texts.com
FIRE: A RIDDLE.
THE loftiest cedars I can eat,
Yet neither paunch nor mouth have I;
I storm whene’er you give me meat;
Whene’er you give me drink, I die.
Yet neither paunch nor mouth have I;
I storm whene’er you give me meat;
Whene’er you give me drink, I die.
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