Yes we will, George, most obviously if we try, as I have tried, to imitate Lear's particular melancholy. I've done my best but it's a long way short of the master.
The Owl and the Pussy Cat Revisited
They lived together did fur and feather
As happy as happy could be,
With crabs and seals and electric eels
In a house by the sounding sea.
But the pussy cat grew old and fat
And in course of time she died,
Then the owl was left alone bereft
To mourn by the sad seaside.
So away he flew through the endless blue,
At a slow and steady pace,
Past the planet Mars and the seven stars
To the caverns of outer space,
And he sang a song as he flapped along
From a heart that was tried and true.
To-whit to-whit was the style of it,
To-woo to-woo to-woo.
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