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"THE LAND OF WONDER-WANDER"

THE JUMBLIES

Edward Lear

THEY went to sea in a sieve, they did;
In a sieve they went to sea ;
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a sieve they went to sea.

And when the sieve turn'd round and round,

And every one cried, "You'll be drown'd!" They call'd aloud, "Our sieve ain't big : But we don't care a button; we don't care a fig:

In a sieve we 'll go to sea!"

Far and few, far and few,

Are the lands where the Jumblies live :

Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;

And they went to sea in a sieve.

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William Brighty Kands

TOPSY-TURVY WORLD

IF the butterfly courted the bee,
And the owl the porcupine;
If churches were built in the sea,
And three times one was nine;
If the pony rode his master,

If the buttercups ate the cows,
If the cats had the dire disaster

To be worried, sir, by the mouse; If mamma, sir, sold the baby

To a gypsy for half a crown; If a gentleman, sir, was a lady, — The world would be Upside-down! If any or all of these wonders

Should ever come about,

I should not consider them blunders, For I should be Inside-out!

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DRESSING THE DOLL

THIS is the way we dress the Doll :You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll, If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook, But this is the way we dress the Doll.

Chorus

Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll.

First, you observe, her little chemise,
As white as milk, with ruches of silk;
And the little drawers that cover her knees,
As she sits or stands, with golden bands,
And lace in beautiful filagrees.

Chorus

Now these are the bodies: she has two,
One of pink, with rouches of blue,
And sweet white lace; be careful, do!
And one of green, with buttons of sheen,
Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,
With lace on the border in lovely order,
The most expensive we can afford her!
Chorus

Then, with black at the border, jacket
And this and this she will not lack it;
Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,
And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,
With a proper bodice, in the proper place,
(Stays that lace have had their days
And made their martyrs); likewise garters,
All entire. But our desire

Is to show you her night attire,
At least a part of it. Pray admire

This sweet white thing that she goes to bed in !

It's not the one that's made for her wedding:

That is special, a new design,
Made with a charm and a countersign,
Three times three and nine times nine:
These are only her usual clothes.
Look, there's a wardrobe! gracious knows
It's pretty enough, as far as it goes!

So you see the way we dress the Doll:
You might make her a shepherdess, the
Doll,

If you gave her a crook with pastoral hook,
With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,
And all that, out of the poetry-book.

Chorus

Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll;
If you had not seen, could you guess the
Doll?

I SAW A NEW WORLD

I SAW a new world in my dream,
Where all the folks alike did seem:
There was no Child, there was no Mother,
There was no Change, there was no Other.

For everything was Same, the Same ; There was no praise, there was no blame; There was neither Need nor Help for it; There was nothing fitting or unfit.

Nobody laugh'd, nobody wept ;
None grew weary, so none slept;
There was nobody born, and nobody wed;
This world was a world of the living-dead.

I long'd to hear the Time-Clock strike
In the world where people were all alike;
I hated Same, I hated Forever;

I long'd to say Neither, or even Never.

I long'd to mend, I long'd to make;
I long'd to give, I long'd to take;
I long'd for a change, whatever came after,
I long'd for crying, I long'd for laughter.

At last I heard the Time-Clock boom,
And woke from my dream in my little room;
With a smile on her lips my Mother was
nigh,

And I heard the Baby crow and cry.

And I thought to myself, How nice it is
For me to live in a world like this,
Where things can happen, and clocks can
strike,

And none of the people are made alike;

Where Love wants this, and Pain wants that,

Where all our hearts want Tit for Tat
In the jumbles we make with our heads and
our hands,

In a world that nobody understands,
But with work, and hope, and the right to

call

Upon Him who sees it and knows us all!

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When at length he sat up and was able to speak,

His sad story he offer'd to tell; And the Bellman cried "Silence! Not even a shriek!"

And excitedly tingled his bell.

There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream,

Scarcely even a howl or a groan,

As the man they call'd "Ho!" told his story of woe

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In an antediluvian tone.

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'My father and mother were honest, though poor "Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in

haste.

'If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark

We have hardly a minute to waste!”

"Iskip forty years," said the Baker, in tears, "And proceed without further remark To the day when you took me aboard of your ship

To help you in hunting the Snark.

"A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was nam'd)

Remark'd, when I bade him farewell—” "Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaim'd,

As he angrily tingled his bell.

"He remark'd to me then," said that mildest of men,

"If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:

Fetch it home by all means

serve it with greens,

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you may

And it's handy for striking a light.

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("That's exactly the method,” the Bellman bold

In a hasty parenthesis cried, "That's exactly the way I have always been told

That the capture of Snarks should be tried !")

"But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,

If your Snark be a Boojum ! For then You will softly and suddenly vanish away, And never be met with again!'

"It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,

When I think of my uncle's last words: And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl

Brimming over with quivering curds!

"It is this, it is this

that before!"

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"We have had

The Bellman indignantly said.

And the Baker replied, "Let me say it

once more.

It is this, it is this that I dread !

"I engage with the Snark — every night after dark

In a dreamy, delirious fight:

I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,

And I use it for striking a light:

"But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
In a moment (of this I am sure),
I shall softly and suddenly vanish away -
And the notion I cannot endure !"

OF ALICE IN WONDERLAND
A BOAT, beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July ;

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear;

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die,
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantom-wise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die :

Ever drifting down the stream,
Lingering in the golden gleam, —
Life, what is it but a dream?

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