Riddle: If old stories say true,
I could once talk like you;
But for fear of becoming a slave,
I was instantly mute,
And grew cunning to boot,
Determined my freedom to save.
Now the fop and the fool,
And the rude boy at school,
All endeavour to practise my art,
But their efforts are vain;
They pretenders remain,
And must--till the world they depart.