Poem by Edward Lear

* * *

There was a Young Lady of Tyre,
Who swept the loud chords of a lyre;
	At the sound of each sweep
	She enraptured the deep,
And enchanted the city of Tyre. 

1. There was an Old Person of Leeds
2. There was an Old Person of Ischia
3. There was an Old Man with a gong
4. There was an Old Man of the Isles
5. There was an Old Man of the West

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