A Nonsense Anthology - Part 2
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Part 2

'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 Banders.n.a.t.c.h!"

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!

Oh, frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"

He chortled in his joy.

'T was brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves And the mome raths outgrabe.

_Lewis Carroll_.

MORS IABROCHII

Coesper[1] erat: tunc lubriciles[2] ultravia circ.u.m Urgebant gyros gimbiculosque tophi; Moestenui visae borogovides ire meatu; Et profugi gemitus exgrabuere rathae.

O fuge Iabrochium, sanguis meus![3] Ille recurvis Unguibus, estque avidis dentibus ille minax.

Ububae fuge cautus avis vim, gnate! Neque unquam Faederpax contra te frumiosus eat!

Vorpali gladio juvenis succingitur: hostis Manxumus ad medium quaeritur usque diem: Jamque via fesso, sed plurima mente prementi, Tumtumiae frondis suaserat umbra moram.

Consilia interdum stet.i.t egnia[4] mene revolvens; At gravis in densa fronde susuffrus[5] erat, Spiculaque[6] ex oculis jacientis flammea, tulseam Per silvam venit burbur[7] labrochii!

Vorpali, semel atque iterum collectus in ictum, Persnicuit gladis persnacuitque puer: Deinde galumphatus, spernens informe Cadaver, Horrendum monstri rettulit ipse caput.

Victor Iabrochii, spoliis insignis opimis, Rursus in amplexus, o radiose, meos!

O frabiose dies! CALLO clamateque CALLA!

Vix potuit lastus chorticulare pater.

Coesper erat: tune lubriciles ultravia circ.u.m Urgebant gyros gimbiculosque tophi; Moestenui visae borogovides ire meatu; Et profugi gemitus exgrabuere rathae.

_Anonymous_.

[Footnote 1: _Coesper_ from _Coena_ and _vesper_.]

[Footnote 2: _lubriciles_ from _lubricus_ and _graciles_. See the Commentary in Humpty Dumpty's square, which will also explain _ultravia_, and--if it requires explanation--_moestenui_.]

[Footnote 3: _Sanguis meus_: cf. Verg. Aen. 6. 836, "Projice tela manu, sanguis meus!"]

[Footnote 4: _egnia_: "m.u.f.fish" = segnis; ... "uffish" = egnis.

This is a conjectural a.n.a.logy, but I can suggest no better solution.]

[Footnote 5: _susuffrus_ : "whiffling" :: _susurrus_ : "whistling."]

[Footnote 6: _spicula_: see the picture.]

[Footnote 7: _burbur_: apparently a l.a.b.i.al variation of _murmur_, stronger but more dissonant.]

_THE NYUM-NYUM_

The Nyum-Nyum chortled by the sea, And sipped the wavelets green: He wondered how the sky could be So very nice and clean;

He wondered if the chambermaid Had swept the dust away, And if the scrumptious Jabberwock Had mopped it up that day.

And then in sadness to his love The Nyum-Nyum weeping said, I know no reason why the sea Should not be white or red.

I know no reason why the sea Should not be red, I say; And why the slithy Banders.n.a.t.c.h Has not been round to-day.

He swore he'd call at two o'clock, And now it's half-past four.

"Stay," said the Nyum-Nyum's love, "I think I hear him at the door."

In twenty minutes in there came A creature black as ink, Which put its feet upon a chair And called for beer to drink.

They gave him porter in a tub, But, "Give me more!" he cried; And then he drew a heavy sigh, And laid him down, and died.

He died, and in the Nyum-Nyum's cave A cry of mourning rose; The Nyum-Nyum sobbed a gentle sob, And slily blew his nose.

The Nyum-Nyum's love, we need not state, Was overwhelmed and sad; She said, "Oh, take the corpse away, Or you will drive me mad!"

The Nyum-Nyum in his supple arms Took up the gruesome weight, And, with a cry of bitter fear, He threw it at his mate.

And then he wept, and tore his hair, And threw it in the sea, And loudly sobbed with streaming eyes That such a thing could be.

The ox, that mumbled in his stall, Perspired and gently sighed, And then, in sympathy, it fell Upon its back and died.

The hen that sat upon her eggs, With high ambition fired, Arose in simple majesty, And, with a cluck, expired.

The jubejube bird, that carolled there, Sat down upon a post, And with a reverential caw, Gave up its little ghost.

And ere its kind and loving life Eternally had ceased, The donkey, in the ancient barn, In agony deceased.

The raven, perched upon the elm, Gave forth a sc.r.a.ping note, And ere the sound had died away, Had cut its tuneful throat.