Mr Lear

 Since Grace did a Lear poem I have to too...

"How pleasant to know Mr.Lear!"
      Who has written such volumes of stuff!
Some think him ill-tempered and queer,
      But a few think 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;
Long ago he was 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, lay men 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 cannot speak, Spanish,
      He cannot abide ginger beer:
Ere the days of his pilgrimage vanish,
      How pleasant to know Mr. Lear!