There once was a man we admire

Who was born in the town Lincolnshire.

The day he was born

Was a fair Christmas morn

And at age eighty- four would expire.

Now this Newton was not very merry

He seemed dull, butin fact,the contrary-

He knew lots about books

Though he had no good looks-

His grey wig was too big and too hairy.

During school he showed little emotion

But his roomie made mixtures and potions

Which he found pretty cool

(It was better than school)

So he made up his three laws of motion.

Now how all these laws came to be

It long should a mystery be

But some people say

That it started one day

With an apple that fell from a tree.

So his lifetime of thinking began

‘Till he became a most famous man

Such a regular ace

At math, time and space-

But to publish was never his plan.

Isaac Newton, he thought day and night

To make sure that his numbers were right.

He was such a smart man

That her highness Queen Anne

Was obliged to ordain him a knight.

Although tireless and brilliant his brain

It was under consid’rable strain

After all of that thought

Must have started to rot

And I fear that he died quite insane.