Animals and Nature

Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are they; But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is—Obey!

When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will go from the trail, Lie down till the leaders have spoken—it may be fair words shall prevail.

Now this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.

Brother, thy tail hangs down behind.

The toad beneath the harrow knows Exactly where each tooth point goes; The butterfly upon the road Preaches contentment to that toad.

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame.

What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

When thou at the random grim forge, powerful amidst peers, Didst fettle for the great gray drayhorse his bright and battering sandal!

Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks arise Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behavior Of silk-sack clouds! Has wilder, willful-wavier Meal-drift molded ever and melted across skies?

Brute beauty and valor and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here Buckle!

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring— When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.

I caught this morning morning’s minion, kingdom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing In his ecstasy!

And meadow rivulets overflow, And drops on gate bars hang in a row, And rooks in families homeward go,

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,

So little cause for carolings Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air Some blessed hope, whereof he knew And I was unaware.

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume.

On a tree by a river a little tomtit Sang “Willow, titwillow, titwillow!” And I said to him, “Dicky-bird, why do you sit Singing ‘Willow, titwillow, titwillow!’ “Is it weakness of intellect, birdie?” I cried, “Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?” With a shake of his poor little head he replied, “Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!”

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.

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.

’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!

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.”