The Academy of American Poets
Home | View Cart | Log In 
Subscribe | More Info 
Find a Poet or Poem
Advanced Search >
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lewis Carroll
Lewis Carroll
Renowned Victorian author Lewis Carroll was born Charles Lutwidge Dodgson on January 27, 1832, in Daresbury, Cheshire, England. The son of a clergyman, Carroll was the third child born to...
More >
FURTHER READING
Poems About Childhood
"Out, Out—"
by Robert Frost
A Boy Juggling a Soccer Ball
by Christopher Merrill
A child said, What is the grass?
by Walt Whitman
anyone lived in a pretty how town
by E. E. Cummings
Birches
by Robert Frost
Block City
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Blur
by Andrew Hudgins
Fern Hill
by Dylan Thomas
In the Waiting Room
by Elizabeth Bishop
Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
by William Wordsworth
Pledge
by Elizabeth Powell
The Children's Hour
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Lamb
by William Blake
The Swing
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Poems for Kids
At the Zoo
by William Makepeace Thackeray
Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face
by Jack Prelutsky
Bleezer's Ice Cream
by Jack Prelutsky
Dream Variations
by Langston Hughes
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain (280)
by Emily Dickinson
maggie and milly and molly and may
by E. E. Cummings
Mary's Lamb
by Sarah Josepha Hale
Mother Doesn't Want a Dog
by Judith Viorst
Mr. Grumpledump's Song
by Shel Silverstein
My Shadow
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Sick
by Shel Silverstein
Since Hannah Moved Away
by Judith Viorst
The Crocodile
by Lewis Carroll
The Eagle
by Lord Alfred Tennyson
The Land of Counterpane
by Robert Louis Stevenson
The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
The Tyger
by William Blake
We never know how high we are (1176)
by Emily Dickinson
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
by Eugene Field
Related Prose
Serious Play: Reading Poetry with Children
Adopt a Poet | Add to Notebook | E-mail to Friend | Print
Jabberwocky  
by Lewis Carroll

'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!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand; 
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree, 
And stood awhile in thought.

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.
Larger TypeLarger Type | Home | Help | Contact Us | Privacy Policy Copyright © 1997 - 2008 by The Academy of American Poets.