Edward Lear Quotes

They went to sea in a sieve, they did;
In a sieve they went to sea;
In spite of all their friends could say.

Who, or why, or which, or what,
Is the Akond of Swat?

On a little heap of Barley
Died my aged uncle Arly,
And they buried him one night;—
Close beside the leafy thicket;—
There, his hat and Railway-Ticket;—
There, his ever-faithful Cricket;—
(But his shoes were far too tight.)

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?"

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

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.

"Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."

They sailed away for a year and a day
To the land where the bong-tree grows.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, "It is just as I feared!—
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!"

It's a fact the whole world knows,
That Pebbles are happier without their toes.

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

When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights.
When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore;—
When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore

I would be your wife most gladly!
(Here she twirled her fingers madly,)
But in England I've a mate!
Yes! you've asked me far too late,
For in England I've a mate.

The Pobble who has no toes
Had once as many as we;
When they said, "Some day you may lose them all;"—
He replied, — "Fish fiddle de-dee!"