Nature and Elements

When the footpads quail at the night-bird’s wail, and black dogs bay at the moon, Then is the specters’ holiday—then is the ghosts’ high noon!

The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra la, Have nothing to do with the case.

Ah, pray make no mistake, We are not shy; We’re very wide awake, The moon and I!

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.

“O Oysters, come and walk with us!” The Walrus did beseech. “A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach.”

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.

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.

’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!

And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey 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 its 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.

The further off from England the nearer is to France— Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.

“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.”

How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! 1 How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little fishes in With gently smiling jaws!

Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads, The wind is passing by.

Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads, The wind is passing by.

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.

The Pedigree of Honey Does not concern the Bee— A Clover, any time, to him, Is Aristocracy.

Bees are Black, with Gilt Surcingles— Buccaneers of Buzz.

Experiment to me Is every one I meet If it contain a Kernel? The Figure of a Nut Presents upon a Tree Equally plausibly, But Meat within, is requisite To Squirrels, and to Me.

I never saw a Moor— I never saw the Sea— Yet know I how the Heather looks And what a Billow be. I never spoke with God Nor visited in Heaven— Yet certain am I of the spot As if the Checks were given—

A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides—

I like to see it lap the Miles— And lick the Valleys up—

And neigh like Boanerges— Then punctual as a Star Stop—docile and omnipotent At its own stable door—

This is my letter to the World That never wrote to Me— The simple News that Nature told— With tender Majesty.