The Jabbed Wock

It brilled, and the quite slithe toves
Did gyre and gimp in the wabe:
The bores had mimsed in all the groves,
And the mome raths out did grabe.

"Look out for the black Jabbed Wock, my son!
The jaws the bite, the claws that catch!
Look out for the Twice Jubbed bird, and shun
The vent fumes of the Snatch!"

He took his vore-made sword in hand:
Long time the quite Manx foe he sought --
And then rest he by the Twice Tum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

And, as in thoughts of uff he stood,
The Jabbed Wock, with its eyes of flame,
Came with a whiff through the dark tuldged wood,
And popped breath as it came!

One two! One two! And through and through
The vore-made blade went snick then snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He umphed his way on back.

"And hast thou slain the black Jabbed Wock?
Come to my arms, my bright beamed boy!
Oh day of frabjs! Call "Oh"!  Call "Hey"!"
He said with a snort in his joy.

It brilled, and the quite slithe toves
Did gyre and gimp in the wabe:
The bores had mimsed in all the groves,
And the mome raths out did grabe.

                                -- Lew Song

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