The Walrus and the Carpenter
The sun was shining on
the sea,
Shining with all his
might:
He did his very best to
make
The billows smooth and
bright –
And this was odd, because
it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining
sulkily,
Because she thought the
sun
Had got no business to be
there
After the day was done –
‘It’s very rude of him,’
she said,
‘To come and spoil the
fun !’
The sea was wet as wet
could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a
cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying
overhead –
There were no birds to
fly.
The Walrus and the
Carpenter
Were walking close at
hand:
They wept like anything
to see
Such quantities of sand:
‘If this were only
cleared away,’
They said, ‘it would
be grand !’
‘If seven maids with
seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the
Walrus said,
‘That they could get it
clear ?’
‘I doubt it,’ said the
Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
‘O, Oysters, come and walk
with us !’
The Walrus did beseech.
‘A pleasant walk, a
pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more
than four,
To give a hand to each.’
The eldest Oyster looked
at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked
his eye,
And shook his heavy head
–
Meaning to say he did not
choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters
hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed,
their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean
and neat –
And this was odd, because,
you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
Four other Oysters
followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they
came at last,
And more, and more, and
more –
All hopping through the
frothy waves,
And scrambling to the
sore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a
rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little
Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
‘The time has come,’ the
Walrus said,
‘To talk of many things:
Of shoes – and ships –
and sealing wax –
Of cabbages – and kings –
And why the sea is
boiling hot –
And whether pigs have
wings !’
‘But wait a bit,’ the
Oysters cried,
‘Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of
breath,
And all of us are fat !’
‘No hurry !’ said the
Carpenter.
They thanked him much for
that.
‘A loaf of bread,’ the
Walrus said,
‘Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar
besides
Are very good indeed –
Now, if you’re ready,
Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.’
‘But not on us !’ the
Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
‘After such kindness,
that would be
A dismal thing to do !’
‘The night is fine,’ the
Walrus said.
‘Do you admire the view ?
‘It was so kind of you to
come !
And you are very nice !’
The Carpenter said
nothing but
‘Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite
so deaf –
I’ve had to ask you twice
!’
‘It seems a shame,’ the
Walrus said,
‘To play them such a
trick.
After we’ve brought them
out so far,
And made them trot so
quick !’
The Carpenter said
nothing but
‘The butter’s spread too
thick !’
‘I weep for you,’ the Walrus
said:
‘I deeply sympathize.’
With sobs and tears he
sorted out
Those of the largest
size,
Holding his pocket
handkerchief
Before his streaming
eyes.
‘O, Oysters,’ said the
Carpenter,
‘You’ve had a pleasant
run !
Shall we be trotting home
again ?’
But answer there came
none –
And this was scarcely
odd, because
They’d eaten every one.
