Alice dear, will you join me in hunting the Snark?
Let us go to the chase hand-in-hand:
If we only can find one before it gets dark,
Could anything happen more grand?
Ever ready to share in the Beaver’s despair,
Count your poor little fingers and thumbs;
Recollecting with tears all the smudges and smears
On the page where you work at your sums!
May I help you to seek it with thimbles and care?
Pursuing with forks and hope?
To threaten its life with a railway-share?
Or to charm it with smiles—but a maiden so fair
Need not trouble herself about soap!