I once met an Irish Chief Who accused me of being a thief But my only bounty was from his home county This riddle condemned me -good grief!

I am a belt that holds a vast, blue gown. You cannot buckle me up or down. Ships cross my line, but I am never wet.

I can run, but I cannot walk, I have a mouth, but I cannot talk, I have a bed, but I never sleep, I own a bank, but no money to keep.

I am a line of tension incarnate, my slightest shift causes violent torment, or, if by sea, a violent torrent. This riddle holds true, but if, in your mind, no answer shakes free, don't blame yourself, It belongs to me.

I appear as triangle, but I am not geometric. People associate me with river.