A Riddle

By Abbie Farwell Brown

It’s a curious house, where people dwell,
And wonders happen, ill or well,
The door-plate gives the house’s name,
Likewise the builder of the same.
You enter, if you have a key,
And something of a scholar be.
You ope the door, and in the hall
A picture greets you, first of all.
A blazoned notice next you view,
The builder’s name, the owner’s too,
The city where the house was made,
Date when the corner-stone was laid.
And then you find a list enrolled
Of treasures which the house doth hold,
That you may choose what suits your eye,
Or if none pleases may pass them by.