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!