The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

Hush-a-by lady, in Alice's lap!
     Till the feast's ready, we've time for a nap.
     When the feast's over, we'll go to the ball--
     Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all!

To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said
     "I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head.
     Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be
Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"

     `Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
     And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
     Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea--
     And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!'

     `"O Looking-Glass creatures," quoth Alice, "draw near!
     `Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:
     `Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
     Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"'

     `Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
     Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:
     Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine--
     And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!'

"First, the fish must be caught."
     That is easy: a baby, I think, could have caught it.
        "Next, the fish must be bought."
     That is easy: a penny, I think, would have bought it.

        "Now cook me the fish!"
     That is easy, and will not take more than a minute.
        "Let it lie in a dish!"
     That is easy, because it already is in it.

        "Bring it here! Let me sup!"
     It is easy to set such a dish on the table.
        "Take the dish-cover up!"
     Ah, that is so hard that I fear I'm unable!

        For it holds it like glue--
     Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle:
        Which is easiest to do,
     Un-dish-cover the fish, or dishcover the riddle?'

`Will you walk a little faster?' said a whiting to a snail, 
`There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's
     treading on my tail.
     See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
     They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?
        Will you, wo'n't you, will you, wo'n't you, will you join the dance?
        Will you, wo'n't you, will you, wo'n't you, wo'n't you join the dance?

     `You can really have no notion how delightful it will be,
     `When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!'
     But the snail replied `Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance--
     Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
        Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance
        Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

     `What matters it how far we go?' his scaly friend replied.
     `There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
     The further off from England the nearer is to France--
     Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
        Will you, wo'n't you, will you, wo'n't you, will you join the dance?
        Will you, wo'n't you, will you, wo'n't you, wo'n't you join the dance?'

`Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
     Waiting in a hot tureen!
     Who for such dainties would not stoop?
     Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
     Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
     Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
     Beautiful beautiful Soup!
     `Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
     Game, or any other dish?
     Who would not give all else for two p
     ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
     Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!

     Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
     Beautiful beauti--FUL SOUP!'

`They told me you had been to her,
  And mentioned me to him:
She gave me a good character,
 But said I could not swim.

     He sent them word I had not gone
(We know it to be true):
 If she should push the matter on,
     What would become of you?

 I gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more:
 They all returned from him to you,
     Though they were mine before.

If I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
    He trusts to you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.

My notion was that you had been
(Before she had this fit)
An obstacle that came between
 Him, and ourselves, and it.

     Don't let him know she liked them best,
For this must ever be
      A secret, kept from all the rest,
        Between yourself and me.'

All in the golden afternoon
        Full leisurely we glide;
     For both our oars, with little skill,
        By little arms are plied,
     While little hands make vain pretence
        Our wanderings to guide.

     Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour,
        Beneath such dreamy weather,
     To beg a tale of breath too weak
        To stir the tiniest feather!
     Yet what can one poor voice avail
        Against three tongues together?

     Imperious Prima flashes forth
        Her edict `to begin it':
     In gentler tones Secunda hopes
        `There will be nonsense in it!'
     While Tertia interrupts the tale
        Not more than once a minute.

     Anon, to sudden silence won,
        In fancy they pursue
     The dream-child moving through a land
        Of wonders wild and new,
     In friendly chat with bird or beast--
        And half believe it true.

     And ever, as the story drained
        The wells of fancy dry,
     And faintly strove that weary one
        To put the subject by,
     `The rest next time--' `It is next time!'
        The happy voices cry.

     Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
        Thus slowly, one by one,
     Its quaint events were hammered out--
        And now the tale is done,
     And home we steer, a merry crew,
        Beneath the setting sun.

     Alice! A childish story take,
        And, with a gentle hand,
     Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined
        In Memory's mystic band.
     Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers
        Pluck'd in a far-off land.

Lady dear, if Fairies may
        For a moment lay aside
     Cunning tricks and elfish play,
        'Tis at happy Christmas-tide.

     We have heard the children say--
        Gentle children, whom we love--
     Long ago, on Christmas Day,
        Came a message from above.

     Still, as Christmas-tide comes round,
        They remember it again--
     Echo still the joyful sound
        `Peace on earth, good-will to men!'

     Yet the hearts must child-like be
        Where such heavenly guests abide;
     Unto children, in their glee,
        All the year is Christmas-tide.

     Thus, forgetting tricks and play
        For a moment, Lady dear,
     We would wish you, if we may,
        Merry Christmas, glad New Year!

Child of the pure unclouded brow
        And dreaming eyes of wonder!
     Though time be fleet, and I and thou
        Are half a life asunder,
     Thy loving smile will surely hail
     The love-gift of a fairy-tale.

     I have not seen thy sunny face,
        Nor heard thy silver laughter:
     No thought of me shall find a place
        In thy young life's hereafter--
     Enough that now thou wilt not fail
     To listen to my fairy-tale.

     A tale begun in other days,
        When summer suns were glowing--
     A simple chime, that served to time
        The rhythm of our rowing--
     Whose echoes live in memory yet,
     Though envious years would say `forget'.

     Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread,
        With bitter tidings laden,
     Shall summon to unwelcome bed
        A melancholy maiden!
     We are but older children, dear,
     Who fret to find our bedtime near.

     Without, the frost, the blinding snow,
        The storm-wind's moody madness--
     Within, the firelight's ruddy glow,
        And childhood's nest of gladness.
     The magic words shall hold thee fast:
     Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.

     And, though the shadow of a sigh
        May tremble through the story,
     For `happy summer days' gone by,
        And vanish'd summer glory--
     It shall not touch with breath of bale,
     The pleasance of our fairy-tale.

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
     Lingering onward dreamily
     In an evening of July --

     Children three that nestle near,
     Eager eye and willing ear,
     Pleased a simple tale to hear --

     Long has paled that sunny sky:
     Echoes fade and memories die:
     Autumn frosts have slain July.

     Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
     Alice moving under skies
     Never seen by waking eyes.

     Children yet, the tale to hear,
     Eager eye and willing ear,
     Lovingly shall nestle near.

     In a Wonderland they lie,
     Dreaming as the days go by,
     Dreaming as the summers die:

     Ever drifting down the stream --
     Lingering in the golden gleam --
     Life, what is it but a dream?

"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
What I tell you three times is true."

… "Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).

"We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!

"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!

"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warrented genuine Snarks.

"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o'-the-Wisp.

"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.

"The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.

"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes--
A sentiment open to doubt.

"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
From those that have whiskers, and scratch.

"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet I feel it my duty to say
Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fained away…

"Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).

"We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!

"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!

"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warrented genuine Snarks.

"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o'-the-Wisp.

"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.

"The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.

"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes--
A sentiment open to doubt.

"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
From those that have whiskers, and scratch.

"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet I feel it my duty to say
Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fained away.

The sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap…

"Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far
Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
(Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
And some, in mahogany kegs:)

"You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
You condense it with locusts and tape:
Still keeping one principal object in view--
To preserve its symmetrical shape."

… It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
And seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
Then the ominous words "It's a Boo--"

Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A weary and wandering sigh
That sounded like "--jum!" but the others declare
It was only a breeze that went by.

They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
Not a button, or feather, or mark,
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
Where the Baker had met with the Snark.

In the midst of the word he was trying to say
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
He had softly and suddenly vanished away--
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.