Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) Lewis Carroll was the first born of eleven children in his family. His dad was a clergyman. When he was young, he entertained his family with magic tricks and poems written for homemade newspapers. Starting in 1846, Carroll attended the Rugby School for four years. He then moved to Christ Church College and graduated in 1854. Even after he graduated, he remained at Christ Church College to lecture math and write guides for students. In 1861, Carroll was given deacon's orders. He never became a priest for a couple of reasons. He had a stammer so it was hard for him to preach in front of a lot of people and he also took interest in other things.One of his strong interests was photography. He loved to photograph people, especially children. In the mid-1850's, Carroll started to write mathematical and humorous works. In 1856, he met a girl named Alice Liddell and started to write stories for her. He wrote about her falling down in a rabbit hole. It originally was named Alice's Adventures Underground but he then changed it to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. He wrote the sequel Through the Looking Glass because of the first story's success. He also wrote many short stories and humorous poems other than these popular tales about Alice.
Jabberwocky T'was 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! Calloh! 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. My Fancy I painted her a gushing thing, With years perhaps a score; A little thought to find they were At least a dozen more; My fancy gave her eyes of blue, A curly, auburn head; I came to find the blue a green The auburn turned to red. She boxed my ears this morning-- They tingled very much; I own that I could wish her A somewhat lighter touch; And if you were to ask me how Her charms might be improved, I would not have them added to, But just a few removed! She has the bear's ethereal grace, The bland hyena's laugh, The footstep of the elephant, The neck of the giraffe. I love her still, believe me, Though my heart its passion hides; "She is all my fancy painted her," But, oh, how much besides!
Jabberwocky
T'was 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! Calloh! 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.
My Fancy
I painted her a gushing thing,
With years perhaps a score;
A little thought to find they were
At least a dozen more;
My fancy gave her eyes of blue,
A curly, auburn head;
I came to find the blue a green
The auburn turned to red.
She boxed my ears this morning--
They tingled very much;
I own that I could wish her
A somewhat lighter touch;
And if you were to ask me how
Her charms might be improved,
I would not have them added to,
But just a few removed!
She has the bear's ethereal grace,
The bland hyena's laugh,
The footstep of the elephant,
The neck of the giraffe.
I love her still, believe me,
Though my heart its passion hides;
"She is all my fancy painted her,"
But, oh, how much besides!