Fit The Third - The Baker's Tale Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


They roused him with muffins they roused him with iceA
They roused him with mustard and cressB
They roused him with jam and judicious adviceA
They set him conundrums to guessB
When at length he sat up and was able to speakC
His sad story he offered to tellD
And the Bellman cried Silence Not even a shriekC
And excitedly tingled his bellD
There was silence supreme Not a shriek not a screamE
Scarcely even a howl or a groanF
As the man they called Ho told his story of woeG
In an antediluvian toneF
My father and mother were honest though poorH
Skip all that cried the Bellman in hasteI
If it once becomes dark there's no chance of a SnarkC
We have hardly a minute to wasteI
I skip forty years said the Baker in tearsJ
And proceed without further remarkC
To the day when you took me aboard of your shipK
To help you in hunting the SnarkC
A dear uncle of mine after whom I was namedL
Remarked when I bade him farewellD
Oh skip your dear uncle the Bellman exclaimedL
As he angrily tingled his bellD
He remarked to me then said that mildest of menM
'If your Snark be a Snark that is rightN
Fetch it home by all means you may serve it with greensO
And it's handy for striking a lightN
'You may seek it with thimbles and seek it with careP
You may hunt it with forks and hopeQ
You may threaten its life with a railway shareP
You may charm it with smiles and soap '-
That's exactly the method the Bellman boldR
In a hasty parenthesis criedS
That's exactly the way I have always been toldR
That the capture of Snarks should be triedS
'But oh beamish nephew beware of the dayT
If your Snark be a Boojum For thenM
You will softly and suddenly vanish awayT
And never be met with againM
It is this it is this that oppresses my soulU
When I think of my uncle's last wordsV
And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowlU
Brimming over with quivering curdsV
It is this it is this We have had that beforeW
The Bellman indignantly saidX
And the Baker replied Let me say it once moreW
It is this it is this that I dreadX
I engage with the Snark every night after darkC
In a dreamy delirious fightN
I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenesV
And I use it for striking a lightN
But if ever I meet with a Boojum that dayT
In a moment of this I am sureY
I shall softly and suddenly vanish awayT
And the notion I cannot endureY

Lewis Carroll


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