What am I?

The land was white the seed was black It'll take a good scholar to riddle me that. What am I?

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A very pretty thing I am, fluttering in the pale-blue sky. Delicate, fragile on the wing, indeed I am a pretty thing. What am I?

I help engines spin and pants stay up. What am I?

When set loose, I fly away. Never so cursed, as when I go astray. What am I?