’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
“Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy.