[Feanor of the Peredhil]

'Twas brillig, and the slithy wolves
Did gyre and gimble in the Night;
All mimsy was the Huntingulve,
And the mome raths the fight.

"Beware the Mirawolf, everyone!
The jaws that bite, the claws that got us!
Beware the other wolves, and shun
The frumious Sally Goddess!"

Ni took her vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe she sought—
So rested she by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought she stood,
The Wolf Pack, 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!
But Ni was dead, and with her head
They went galumphing back.

"But thou hast slain the Mirawolf!
Come to the Mod, my beamish Ni!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
Sal chortled in her glee.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy wolves
Did gyre and gimble in the Night;
All mimsy was the Huntingulve,
And the mome raths the fight.