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in the wabe
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and the slithy toves
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in the wabe
|
|
were the borogoves
|
outgrabe
|
my son!
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the claws that catch
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and shun
|
bandersnatch!
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in hand
|
foe he sought
|
and stood awhile in thought
|
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thought he stood
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with eyes of flame
|
the tulgey wood
|
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as it came
|
and through and through
|
went snicker snack
|
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and with its head
|
galumphing back
|
slain the Jabberwock?
|
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my beamish boy
|
callooh! callay!
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and the slthy toves
|
and the mom raths outgabe.
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