POETRY SET 2 CHALLENGE POEMS a Station of the Metro” “In By, Ezra Pound The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough. [From Ms. L Yes, the poem is actually this long.] – “Jabberwocky” By, Lewis Carroll brillig, and the slithy toves ’Twas Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. the Jabberwock, my son! “Beware The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!” 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 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. hast thou slain the Jabberwock? “And Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy. brillig, and the slithy toves ’Twas Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
POETRY SET 2 CHALLENGE POEMS “In a Station of the Metro” By, Ezra Pound The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough. [From Ms. L – Yes, the poem is actually this long.] “Jabberwocky” By, Lewis Carroll ’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 Bandersnatch!” 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 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! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy. ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
ap_lit_poetry_set_2.docx