[Home] [Table of Contents] [About Edward Lear] [Portraits of Lear]
Edward Lear Home Page

W. H. Auden,
Edward Lear
 

Left by his friend to breakfast alone on the white
Italian shore, his Terrible Demon arose
Over his shoulder; he wept to himself in the night,
A dirty landscape-painter who hated his nose.

The legions of cruel inquisitive They
Were so many and big like dogs: he was upset
By Germans and boats; affection was miles away:
But guided by tears he successfully reached his Regret.

How prodigiuous the welcome was. Flowers took his hat
And bore him off to introduce him to the tongs;
The demon's false nose made the table laugh; a cat
Soon had him waltzing madly, let him squeeze her hand;
Words pushed him to the piano to sing comic songs;

And children swarmed to him like settlers. He became a land.

 

[from W.H. Auden, Collected Shorter Poems 1927-1957,
London, Faber and Faber, 1966, p. 127.]

 

[Home] [Table of Contents] [About Edward Lear] [Portraits of Lear]

There was an Old Derry down Derry...
Edward Lear's Nonsense Poetry and Art

Page layout © Marco Graziosi
marco.graziosi@gmail.com