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Twas brillig and slithy toves

  Did gyre and grimble in the wabe:

All wimsy were the borogroves,

  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!’’


He took his vorpal sword in hand:

  Log time the manxome foe he sought –

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

  And stood awhile in thought.


Abd, as in uffish thought he stood,

  The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tugey wood,

  And burbled as it came!


One, two! One, two! And through and through

  The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with it’s head

  He went galumphing back.


‘’And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

  Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’’

  He chortled in his joy.


Rwas brillig, and the slithy toves

  Did gyre and gamble in the wade:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

  And the mome raths outrabe.’


Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

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