Answer:
My first is a heir; My second's a snare; my whole is the offspring of fancy; which I sent out of play upon Valentine's day As a token of love to my Nancy.
I flow from the Homerβs mouth when he sees doughnuts.
I run smoother than any rhyme I love to fall but cannot climb.
What gets whiter the dirtier it gets?
You bury me when Iβm alive and dig me up when Iβm dead. What am I?
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.