A Book of Nonsense, part 3 by Edward Lear

Published: June 17, 2011, 8 p.m.

b'There was an Old Man of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles;
He sang \\u201cHigh dum diddle,\\u201d
and played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.

There was an Old Person of Basing,
Whose presence of mind was amazing;
He purchased a steed,
which he rode at full speed,
And escaped from the people of Basing.

There was an Old Man who supposed
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large Rats
ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile Old Gentleman dozed.

There was an Old Person whose habits
Induced him to feed upon Rabbits;
When he\\u2019d eaten eighteen,
he turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

There was an Old Man of the West,
Who wore a pale plum-colored vest;
When they said, \\u201cDoes it fit?\\u201d
he replied, \\u201cNot a bit!\\u201d
That uneasy Old Man of the West.

There was an Old Man of Marseilles,
Whose daughters wore bottle-green veils:
They caught several Fish,
which they put in a dish,
And sent to their Pa at Marseilles.

There was an Old Man of the Wrekin,
Whose shoes made a horrible creaking;
But they said, \\u201cTell us whether
your shoes are of leather,
Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?\\u201d

There was a Young Lady whose nose
Was so long that it reached to her toes;
So she hired an Old Lady,
whose conduct was steady,
To carry that wonderful nose.

There was a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat in a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat,
she exclaimed, \\u201cWhat of that?\\u201d
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.

There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar;
He fed twenty sons
upon nothing but buns,
That whimsical Man of Apulia.

There was an Old Man of Quebec,--
A beetle ran over his neck;
But he cried, \\u201cWith a needle
I\\u2019ll slay you, O beadle!\\u201d
That angry Old Man of Quebec.

There was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs
to her Uncle\\u2019s white Pigs:
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

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