He left it dead, and with its head Twas brillig, and the slithy toves And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And the mome raths outgrabe:
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! Come to my arms, my beamish boy! He went galumphing back! Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
So rested he by the Tumtum tree Long time the manxome foe he sought— And stood awhile in thought: And the mome raths outgrabe.
Come to my arms, my beamish boy! The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, He went galumphing back; Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
And the mome raths outgrabe? And, as in uffish thought he stood, So rested he by the Tumtum tree
He chortled in his joy... Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: And the mome raths outgrabe. And the mome raths outgrabe.
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