Spock?
A Chaucerian Poem

A scientist who happened to come by
Was from an arid island in the sky.
He was as strange in manner and in looks
As any person written of in books.
In figure he was tall and very lean,
His skin a quite peculiar shade of green.
With pointed ears and brows, so he appeared
To be a creature by the fairies reared.
He spoke to us in such a lofty tone.
In talk of logic, he was most at home.
In impassivity he always spoke,
And it was never clear what was a joke.
His subtle irony stirred up the place,
But never cracked the stone upon his face,
Nor did he ever show what lay beneath,
And never did we see his perfect teeth.