"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 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 parlor,
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 come 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!