This is a poem by Lewis Carroll from Through the Looking-Glass. It is sung by the White Knight in chapter eight to the tune that he claims to be his own invention, but which Alice recognizes as I give thee all, I can no more. Bust of Homer, one of the earliest European poets, in the British Museum Poetry (ancient Greek: ποιεω (poieo) = I create) is an art form in which human language is used for its aesthetic qualities in addition to, or instead of, its notional and semantic content. ... Photograph of Lewis Carroll taken by himself, with assistance Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (January 27, 1832 – January 14, 1898), better known by the pen name Lewis Carroll, was a British author, mathematician, logician, Anglican clergyman and photographer. ... Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There (1871) is a work of childrens literature by Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson), and is the sequel to Alices Adventures in Wonderland. ... The term White knight can have several meanings. ... My Heart and Lute is a song/poem by Thomas Moore. ...

By the time Alice heard it, she was already getting tired of poetry.

It is a parody of Resolution and Independence by William Wordsworth. William Wordsworth, English poet William Wordsworth (April 7, 1770 – April 23, 1850) was an English poet who with Samuel Taylor Coleridge launched the Romantic Age in English literature with the 1798 publication of Lyrical Ballads. ...

Naming

The White Knight explains the rather confusing naming for the song.

• The song's name is called Haddocks' Eyes
• The song's actual name is The Aged Aged Man
• The song is called Ways and Means
• The song actually is A-sitting On a Gate

The Poem

I'll tell thee everything I can:

There's little to relate.

I saw an aged aged man,

A-sitting on a gate.

"Who are you, aged man?" I said,

"And how is it you live?"

And his answer trickled through my head,

Like water through a sieve.

He said "I look for butterflies

That sleep among the wheat:

I make them into mutton-pies,

And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men," he said,

"Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread --

A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan

To dye one's whiskers green,

And always use so large a fan

That they could not be seen.

So, having no reply to give

To what the old man said,

I cried "Come, tell me how you live!"

And thumped him on the head.

His accents mild took up the tale:

He said "I go my ways,

And when I find a mountain-rill,

I set it in a blaze;

And thence they make a stuff they call

Rowlands' Macassar-Oil --

Yet twopence-halfpenny is all

They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a way

To feed oneself on batter,

And so go on from day to day

Getting a little fatter.

I shook him well from side to side,

Until his face was blue:

"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,

"And what it is you do!"

He said "I hunt for haddocks" eyes

Among the heather bright,

And work them into waistcoat-buttons

In the silent night.

And these I do not sell for gold

Or coin of silvery shine,

But for a copper halfpenny,

And that will purchase nine.

"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,

Or set limed twigs for crabs:

I sometimes search the grassy knolls

For wheels of Hansom-cabs.

And that's the way" (he gave a wink)

"By which I get my wealth--

And very gladly will I drink

Your Honour's noble health."

I heard him then, for I had just

Completed my design

To keep the Menai bridge from rust

By boiling it in wine.

I thanked him much for telling me

The way he got his wealth,

But chiefly for his wish that he

Might drink my noble health.

And now, if e'er by chance I put

My fingers into glue,

Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot

Into a left-hand shoe,

Or if I drop upon my toe

A very heavy weight,

I weep, for it reminds me so

Of that old man I used to know--

Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow

Whose hair was whiter than the snow,

Whose face was very like a crow,

With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,

Who seemed distracted with his woe,

Who rocked his body to and fro,

And muttered mumblingly and low,

As if his mouth were full of dough,

Who snorted like a buffalo--

That summer evening long ago,

A-sitting on a gate.

Upon the Lonely Moor

In 1856, Carroll published the following poem anonymously under the name Upon the Lonely Moor. The two poems are quite obviously related. 1856 was a leap year starting on Tuesday (see link for calendar). ...

I met an aged, aged man

Upon the lonely moor:

I knew I was a gentleman,

And he was but a boor.

So I stopped and roughly questionned him,

"Come, tell me how you live!"

But his words impressed my ear no more

Than if it were a sieve.

He said, "I look for soap-bubbles,

That lie among the wheat,

And bake them into mutton-pies,

And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men," he said,

"Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread -

A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a way

To multiply by ten,

And always, in the answer, get

The question back again.

I did not hear a word he said,

But kicked that old man calm,

And said, "Come, tell me how you live!"

And pinched him in the arm.

His accents mild took up the tale:

He said, "I go my ways,

And when I find a mountain-rill,

I set it in a blaze.

And thence they make a stuff they call

Rowland's Macassar Oil;

But fourpence-halfpenny is all

They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a plan

To paint one's gaiters green,

So much the color of the grass

That they could ne'er be seen.

I gave his ear a sudden box,

And questioned him again,

And tweaked his grey and reverend locks,

And put him into pain.

He said, "I hunt for haddock's eyes

Among the heather bright,

And work them into waistcoat-buttons

In the silent night.

And these I do not sell for gold,

Or coin or silver-mine,

But for a copper-halfpenny,

And that will purchase nine.

"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,

Or set limed twigs for crabs;

I sometimes search the flowery knolls

For wheels of hansom cabs.

And that's the way" (he gave a wink)

"I get my living here,

And very gladly will I drink

Your Honour's health in beer."

I heard him then, for I had just

Completed my design

To keep the Menai bridge from rust

By boiling it in wine.

I duly thanked him, ere I went,

For all his stories queer,

But chiefly for his kind intent

To drink my health in beer.

And now if e'er by chance I put

My fingers into glue,

Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot

Into a left-hand shoe;

Or if a statement I aver

Of which I am not sure,

I think of what strange wanderer

Upon the lonely moor.

See also

• Nonsense verse

Nonsense verse is a form of poetry, normally composed for humorous effect, which is intentionally and overtly paradoxical, silly, witty, whimsical or just plain strange. ...

References

• Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll
• The Annotated Alice, Martin Gardner ISBN 0-713-99417-7
• Lenny's Alice in Wonderland Site