Edward Lear

Edward Lear

1812–1888 · lived 75 years -- --

Edward Lear was an English artist, illustrator, musician, author, and poet, celebrated primarily for his nonsense poetry. His distinctive style, characterized by limericks and whimsical illustrations, brought him widespread fame. Lear's work often featured eccentric characters, fantastical landscapes, and playful rhymes, offering a unique blend of humor and imagination. He is considered a pioneer of the nonsense genre, influencing generations of writers and artists with his creative spirit.

n. 1812-05-12, Highgate · m. 1888-01-29, Sanremo

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Calicoe Pie

Calicoe Pie

Calico Pie,
The little Birds fly
Down to the calico tree,
Their wings were blue,
And they sang 'Tilly-loo!'
Till away they flew,
And they never came back to me!
They never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back to me!


Calico Jam,
The little Fish swam
Over the syllabub sea,
He took off his hat
To the Sole and the Sprat,
And the Willeby-wat,
But he never came back to me!
He never came back!
He never came back!
He never came back to me!


Calico Ban,
The little Mice ran,
To be ready in time for tea,
Flippity-flup,
They drank it all up,
And danced in the cup,
But they never came back to me!
They never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back to me!


Calico Drum,
The Grasshoppers come,
The Butterfly, Beetle, and Bee,
Over the ground,
Around and around,
With a hop and a bound -
But they never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back to me!
Read full poem
Bio

Identification and basic context

Edward Lear was an English artist, illustrator, musician, author, and poet. He is most famous for his contributions to the genre of literary nonsense. Lear was born in Highgate, London, and remained in England for most of his life. His nationality was English, and he wrote primarily in English. He lived during the Victorian era, a period of significant social and artistic change in Britain.

Childhood and education

Lear had a difficult childhood, marked by poverty and ill health. He was the youngest of twenty-one children, many of whom died in infancy. He began drawing and painting at a very young age, showing an early artistic talent. He received little formal education, largely educating himself through observation and persistent self-study. Early influences included his sister Ann, who was much older and tutored him in drawing, and the natural world, which became a subject of his early artistic endeavors.

Literary trajectory

Lear began his professional career as a landscape painter and illustrator. He gained early recognition for his detailed and accurate drawings of birds, particularly parrots, which led to his employment by the Zoological Society of London. His first major publication was *Gleanings from the Menagerie at Knowsley Hall* (1846). However, it was his move into nonsense verse that brought him widespread fame. His first collection of nonsense poetry, *A Book of Nonsense*, was published in 1846 under the pseudonym '***.' It was immensely popular and was followed by several other collections of limericks and nonsense stories. He also published travel books, illustrated works for others, and composed music.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Lear's most famous works are his collections of nonsense poetry, including *A Book of Nonsense* (1846), *Nonsense Songs, Stories, Botany, and Alphabets* (1871), and *Laughable Lyrics* (1877). His dominant themes, if they can be called that, revolve around the absurd, the whimsical, and the fantastical. He is best known for perfecting the limerick, a five-line poetic form with a specific rhyme scheme (AABBA) and rhythm, often featuring eccentric characters and humorous situations. Lear's style is characterized by its playful use of language, invented words, and nonsensical narratives. His illustrations, often created by himself, are an integral part of his work, complementing the text with their unique, often melancholic, charm. His poetic voice is distinctive, witty, and childlike, yet with an underlying sophistication. His innovations lay in establishing the limerick as a popular literary form and in pioneering the genre of literary nonsense.

Cultural and historical context

Lear's work emerged during the Victorian era, a period that saw both a strong emphasis on morality and social convention, and a growing appetite for escapism and humor. His nonsense literature provided a delightful counterpoint to the seriousness of the age. He was a contemporary of other humorists and illustrators, but his style remained unique. His association with the aristocracy, particularly through his patronage by the Earl of Derby, provided him with opportunities for his work to be seen and appreciated.

Personal life

Lear never married and had no children. He suffered from epilepsy and poor eyesight, which impacted his personal life and professional opportunities at times. He was known to be somewhat eccentric and reclusive, though he also cherished his friendships. He spent his later years living in San Mauro di Romagna, Italy, where he found a more congenial climate and a peaceful environment for his work. His personal life, with its share of struggles and solitude, perhaps contributed to the unique blend of humor and melancholy found in his creations.

Recognition and reception

Lear achieved considerable fame during his lifetime, particularly for his nonsense books, which were very popular. His limericks became part of the popular lexicon. While his work was primarily appreciated for its humor, its artistic and literary merit has been increasingly recognized over time. He is now considered a seminal figure in the development of nonsense literature and children's literature.

Influences and legacy

Lear's work was influenced by earlier forms of comic verse and folklore. His legacy is profound as a pioneer of literary nonsense. He inspired numerous writers and illustrators, including Lewis Carroll, though their styles differed. His limericks remain a popular form of light verse, and his illustrations continue to be admired for their distinctive charm. He demonstrated the literary value of playful language and imaginative absurdity.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Critics often interpret Lear's nonsense as a form of escapism or a gentle critique of societal absurdities. The seemingly simple nature of his limericks often hides clever wordplay and a sophisticated understanding of rhythm and rhyme. Some analyses focus on the melancholic undertones present in his work and illustrations, suggesting a deeper reflection on loneliness or the human condition.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Lear was a talented musician and composer, creating many original songs and settings for his poems. His passion for ornithology is evident in his early work. He was also a prolific letter writer, and his correspondence provides valuable insights into his life and thoughts. His fondness for cats was well-known, and they often featured in his personal life and sometimes subtly in his art.

Death and memory

Edward Lear died in 1888 in San Mauro di Romagna, Italy. He is remembered as a master of nonsense, whose playful verses and whimsical illustrations continue to bring joy and laughter to readers of all ages. His contribution to the limerick form and the genre of literary nonsense is undisputed.

Poems

78

The Daddy Long-Legs and the Fly

The Daddy Long-Legs and the Fly

Once Mr Daddy Long-Legs,
Dressed in brown and gray,
Walked about upon the sands
Upon a summer's day;
And there among the pebbles,
When the wind was rather cold,
He met with Mr Floppy Fly,
All dressed in blue and gold.
And as it was too soon to dine,
They drank some Periwinkle-wine,
And played an hour or two, or more,
At battlecock and shuttledore.


Said Mr Daddy Long-legs
To Mr Floppy Fly,
'Why do you never come to court?
I wish you'd tell me why.
All gold and shine, in dress so fine,
You'd quite delight the court.
Why do you never go at all?
I really think you ought!
And if you went, you'd see such sights!
Such rugs! and jugs! and candle-lights!
And more than all, the King and Queen,
One in red, and one in green!'


'O Mr Daddy Long-Legs,'
Said Mr Floppy Fly,
'It's true I never go to court,
And I will tell you why.
If I had six long legs like yours,
At once I'd go to court!
But Oh! I can't, because my legs
Are so extremely short.
And I'm afraid the King and Queen
(One in red and one in green)
Would say aloud, 'You are not fit,
You Fly, to come to court a bit.'
O Mr Daddy Long-Legs,'
Said Mr Floppy Fly,
'I wish you'd sing one little song!
One mumbian melody!
You used to sing so awful well
In former days gone by,
But now you never sing at all;
I wish you'd tell me why:
For if you would, the silvery sound
Would please the shrimps and cockles round,
And all the crabs would gladly come
To hear you sing, 'Ah, Hum di Hum!''


Said Mr Daddy Long-Legs,



'I can never sing again!
And if you wish, I'll tell you why,
Although it gives me pain.
For years I could not hum a bit,
Or sing the smallest song;
And this the dreadful reason is,
My legs are grown too long!
My six long legs, all here and there,
Oppress my bosom with despair;
And if I stand, or lie, or sit,
I cannot sing one single bit!'


So Mr Daddy Long-Legs
And Mr Floppy Fly
Sat down in silence by the sea,
And gazed upon the sky.
They said, 'This is a dreadful thing!
The world has all gone wrong,
Since one has legs too short by half,
The other much too long!
One never more can go to court,
Because his legs have grown too short;
The other cannot sing a song,
Because his legs have grown too long!'


Then Mr Daddy Long-Legs
And Mr Floppy Fly
Rushed downward to the foaming sea
With one sponge-taneous cry;
And there they found a little boat
Whose sails were pink and gray;
And off they sailed among the waves
Far, and far away.
They sailed across the silent main
And reached the great Gromboolian plain;
And there they play for evermore
At battlecock and shuttledore.
234

The Akond of Swat

The Akond of Swat

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

Is he tall or short, or dark or fair?
Does he sit on a stool or a sofa or a chair,
or SQUAT,
The Akond of Swat?

Is he wise or foolish, young or old?
Does he drink his soup and his coffee cold,
or HOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he sing or whistle, jabber or talk,
And when riding abroad does he gallop or walk
or TROT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he wear a turban, a fez, or a hat?
Does he sleep on a mattress, a bed, or a mat,
or COT,
The Akond of Swat?

When he writes a copy in round-hand size,
Does he cross his T's and finish his I's
with a DOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Can he write a letter concisely clear
Without a speck or a smudge or smear
or BLOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Do his people like him extremely well?
Or do they, whenever they can, rebel,
or PLOT,
At the Akond of Swat?

If he catches them then, either old or young,
Does he have them chopped in pieces or hung,
or SHOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Do his people prig in the lanes or park?
Or even at times, when days are dark,
GAROTTE,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he study the wants of his own dominion?
Or doesn't he care for public opinion
a JOT,
The Akond of Swat?


To amuse his mind do his people show him
Pictures, or any one's last new poem,
or WHAT,
For the Akond of Swat?

At night if he suddenly screams and wakes,
Do they bring him only a few small cakes,
or a LOT,
For the Akond of Swat?

Does he live on turnips, tea, or tripe?
Does he like his shawl to be marked with a stripe,
or a DOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he like to lie on his back in a boat
Like the lady who lived in that isle remote,
SHALLOTT,
The Akond of Swat?

Is he quiet, or always making a fuss?
Is his steward a Swiss or a Swede or Russ,
or a SCOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does like to sit by the calm blue wave?
Or to sleep and snore in a dark green cave,
or a GROTT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he drink small beer from a silver jug?
Or a bowl? or a glass? or a cup? or a mug?
or a POT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he beat his wife with a gold-topped pipe,
When she let the gooseberries grow too ripe,
or ROT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he wear a white tie when he dines with friends,
And tie it neat in a bow with ends,
or a KNOT.
The Akond of Swat?

Does he like new cream, and hate mince-pies?
When he looks at the sun does he wink his eyes,
or NOT,
The Akond of Swat?

Does he teach his subjects to roast and bake?
Does he sail about on an inland lake


in a YACHT,
The Akond of Swat?


Some one, or nobody, knows I wot
Who or which or why or what

Is the Akond of Swat?
335

Parody of Tennyson'sTo Edward Lear on His Travels in Greece

Parody of Tennyson'sTo Edward Lear on His Travels in Greece

Delirious Bulldogs; -- echoing calls
My daughter, -- green as summer grass; --
The long supine Plebeian ass,
The nasty crockery boring falls; -


Tom-Moory Pathos; -- all things bare, --
With such a turket! such a hen!
And scrambling forms of distant men,
O! ain't you glad you were not there!
197

Mrs Jaypher

Mrs Jaypher

Mrs Jaypher found a wafer
Which she stuck upon a note;
This she took and gave the cook.
Then she went and bought a boat,
Which she paddled down the stream,
Shouting, 'Ice produces cream,
Beer when churned produces butter!
Henceforth all the words I utter
Distant ages thus shall note '
From the Jaypher Wisdom-Boat.''


Mrs Jaypher said, 'It's safer
If you've lemons in your head;
First to eat, a pound of meat,
And then to go at once to bed.
Eating meat is half the battle,
Till you hear the Lemons rattle!
If you don't, you'll always moan,
In a Lemoncolly tone;
For there's nothing half so dreadful,
as Lemons in your head.
256

Mr and Mrs Discobbolos

Mr and Mrs Discobbolos

First Part
Mr and Mrs Discobbolos
Climbed to the top of a wall,
And they sat to watch the sunset sky
And to hear the Nupiter Piffkin cry
And the Biscuit Buffalo call.
They took up a roll and some Chamomile tea,
And both were as happy as happy could be -
Till Mrs Discobbolos said, '
Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head -
Suppose we should happen to fall!!!!!
Darling Mr Discobbolos?


'Suppose we should fall down flumpetty
Just like two pieces of stone!
On to the thorns, - or into the moat!
What would become of your new green coat?
And might you not break a bone?
It never occurred to me before -
That perhaps we shall never go down any more!'
And Mrs Discobbolos said '
Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
What put it into your head
To climb up this wall? - my own
Darling Mr Discobbolos?'


Mr Discobbolos answered, '
At first it gave me pain, -
And I felt my ears turn perfectly pink
When your exclamation made me think
We might never get down again!
But now I believe it is wiser far
To remain for ever just where we are.' -
And Mr Discobbolos said,
'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head '-
We shall never go down again -
Dearest Mrs Discobbolos.!'


So Mr and Mrs Discobbolos
Stood up, and began to sing,
'Far away from hurry and strife
Here we will pass the rest of life,
Ding a dong, ding dong, ding!
We want no knives nor forks nor chairs,
No tables nor carpets nor household cares,
From worry of life we've fled '
Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
There is no more trouble ahead
Sorrow or any such thing -
For Mr and Mrs Discobbolos!'



Second Part.


Mr and Mrs Discobbolos
Lived on the top of the wall
For twenty years, a month and a day,
Till their hair had grown all pearly gray,
And their teeth began to fall.
They never were ill, or at all dejected,
By all admired, and by some respected,
Till Mrs Discobbolos said,
'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head,
We have no more room at all -
Darling Mr Discobbolos!


Look at our six fine boys!
And our six sweet girls so fair!
Upon this wall they have all been born,
And not one of the twelve has happened to fall
Through my maternal care!
Surely they should not pass their lives
Without any chance of husbands or wives!'
And Mrs Discobbolos said,
'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
Did it never come into your head
That our lives must be lived elsewhere,
Dearest Mr Discobbolos?


'They have never been at a ball,
Nor have even seen a bazaar!
Nor have heard folks say in a tone all hearty,
'What loves of girls (at a garden party)
Those Misses Discobbolos are!'
Morning and night it drives me wild
To think of the fate of each darling child!'
But Mr Discobbolos said,
'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
What has come to your fiddledum head!
What a runcible goose you are!
Octopod Mrs Discobbolos!'


Suddenly Mr Discobbolos
Slid from the top of the wall;
And beneath it he dug a dreadful trench,
And filled it with dynamite, gunpowder gench,
And aloud he began to call '
Let the wild bee sing,
And the blue bird hum!
For the end of your lives has certainly come!'
And Mrs Discobbolos said,



'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
We shall presently all be dead,
On this ancient runcible wall,
Terrible Mr Discobbolos!'


Pensively, Mr Discobbolos
Sat with his back to the wall;
He lighted a match, and fired the train,
And the mortified mountain echoed again
To the sound of an awful fall!
And all the Discobbolos family flew
In thousands of bits to the sky so blue,
And no one was left to have said,
'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
Has it come into anyone's head
That the end has happened to all
Of the whole of the Clan Discobbolos?'
290

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Sparta

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Sparta

There was an Old Person of Sparta,
Who had twenty-one sons and one 'darter';
He fed them on snails,
And weighed them in scales,
That wonderful Person of Sparta.
172

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Ewell

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Ewell

There was an Old Person of Ewell,
Who chiefly subsisted on gruel;
But to make it more nice
He inserted some mice,
Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.
229

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Chester

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Chester

There was an Old Person of Chester,
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones,
Which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Old Person of Chester.
199

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Burton

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Burton

There was an Old Person of Burton,
Whose answers were rather uncertain;
When they said, 'How d'ye do?'
He replied, 'Who are you?'
That distressing Old Person of Burton.
156

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Anerley

Limerick:There was an Old Person of Anerley

There was an Old Person of Anerley,
Whose conduct was strange and unmannerly;
He rushed down the Strand
With a pig in each hand,
But returned in the evening to Anerley.
202

Quotes

39

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