Treasure Island

Edward Lear

(12 May 1812 – 29 January 1888 / London / England)

How pleasant to know Mr. Lear


How pleasant to know Mr. Lear,
Who has written such volumes of stuff.
Some think him ill-tempered and queer,
But a few find him pleasant enough.

His mind is concrete and fastidious,
His nose is remarkably big;
His visage is more or less hideous,
His beard it resembles a wig.

He has ears, and two eyes, and ten fingers,
(Leastways if you reckon two thumbs);
He used to be one of the singers,
But now he is one of the dumbs.

He sits in a beautiful parlour,
With hundreds of books on the wall;
He drinks a great deal of marsala,
But never gets tipsy at all.

He has many friends, laymen and clerical,
Old Foss is the name of his cat;
His body is perfectly spherical,
He weareth a runcible hat.

When he walks in waterproof white,
The children run after him so!
Calling out, "He's gone out in his night-
Gown, that crazy old Englishman, oh!"

He weeps by the side of the ocean,
He weeps on the top of the hill;
He purchases pancakes and lotion,
And chocolate shrimps from the mill.

He reads, but he does not speak, Spanish,
He cannot abide ginger beer;
Ere the days of his pilgrimage vanish,
How pleasant to know Mr. Lear!

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • Brian Purdy (1/14/2012 9:42:00 AM)

    What splendid fun perpetrated by the inestimable Mr. Lear. Sure, 'nonsense' makes the heart grow fonder, what's the use to sulk and ponder, let imagination skitter, lest our beer turn somewhat bitter, open minds and baggy trousers, read me right, thou soggy browsers. (Report) Reply

  • Julie Senborne (5/1/2006 6:24:00 PM)

    there were alot of wacky words, and it was a bit confusing, but it had an up tempo beat to it, a i really liked it (Report) Reply

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