Lewis Carroll (लुईस कैरोल)

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six,Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven,Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!.

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen,Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!".

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one,But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?.

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age,When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more,So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!.

Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!,We jog along together, like the rest of human kind.

But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows,The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!.

The day was wet, the rain fell souse,Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a.

sound was heard in the old henhouse,A beating of a hammer.

Of stalwart form, and visage warm,Two youths were seen within it.

Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultry,At a hundred strokes [2] a minute.

The work is done, the hen has taken,Possession of her nest and eggs.

Without a thought of eggs and bacon,(Or I am very much mistaken happy).

She turns over each shell,To be sure that all's well.

Looks into the straw,To see there's no flaw.

Goes once round the house, [4],Half afraid of a mouse.

Then sinks calmly to rest,On the top of her nest.

First doubling up each of her legs,Time rolled away, and so did every shell.

"Small by degrees and beautifully less,",As the large mother with a powerful spell [5].

Forced each in turn its contents to express, [6],But ah! "imperfect is expression,".

Some poet said, I don't care who,If you want to know you must go elsewhere.

One fact I can tell, if you're willing to hear,He never attended a Parliament Session.

For I'm certain that if he had ever been there,Full quickly would he have changed his ideas.

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six,Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven,Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!.

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen,Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!".

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one,But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?.

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age,When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more,So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!.

Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!,We jog along together, like the rest of human kind.

But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows,The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!.

The day was wet, the rain fell souse,Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a.

sound was heard in the old henhouse,A beating of a hammer.

Of stalwart form, and visage warm,Two youths were seen within it.

Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultry,At a hundred strokes [2] a minute.

The work is done, the hen has taken,Possession of her nest and eggs.

Without a thought of eggs and bacon,(Or I am very much mistaken happy).

She turns over each shell,To be sure that all's well.

Looks into the straw,To see there's no flaw.

Goes once round the house, [4],Half afraid of a mouse.

Then sinks calmly to rest,On the top of her nest.

First doubling up each of her legs,Time rolled away, and so did every shell.

"Small by degrees and beautifully less,",As the large mother with a powerful spell [5].

Forced each in turn its contents to express, [6],But ah! "imperfect is expression,".

Some poet said, I don't care who,If you want to know you must go elsewhere.

One fact I can tell, if you're willing to hear,He never attended a Parliament Session.

For I'm certain that if he had ever been there,Full quickly would he have changed his ideas.

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six,Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven,Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!.

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen,Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!".

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one,But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?.

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age,When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more,So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!.

Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!,We jog along together, like the rest of human kind.

But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows,The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!.

The day was wet, the rain fell souse,Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a.

sound was heard in the old henhouse,A beating of a hammer.

Of stalwart form, and visage warm,Two youths were seen within it.

Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultry,At a hundred strokes [2] a minute.

The work is done, the hen has taken,Possession of her nest and eggs.

Without a thought of eggs and bacon,(Or I am very much mistaken happy).

She turns over each shell,To be sure that all's well.

Looks into the straw,To see there's no flaw.

Goes once round the house, [4],Half afraid of a mouse.

Then sinks calmly to rest,On the top of her nest.

First doubling up each of her legs,Time rolled away, and so did every shell.

"Small by degrees and beautifully less,",As the large mother with a powerful spell [5].

Forced each in turn its contents to express, [6],But ah! "imperfect is expression,".

Some poet said, I don't care who,If you want to know you must go elsewhere.

One fact I can tell, if you're willing to hear,He never attended a Parliament Session.

For I'm certain that if he had ever been there,Full quickly would he have changed his ideas.

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six,Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven,Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!.

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen,Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!".

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one,But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?.

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age,When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more,So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!.

Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!,We jog along together, like the rest of human kind.

But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows,The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!.

The day was wet, the rain fell souse,Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a.

sound was heard in the old henhouse,A beating of a hammer.

Of stalwart form, and visage warm,Two youths were seen within it.

Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultry,At a hundred strokes [2] a minute.

The work is done, the hen has taken,Possession of her nest and eggs.

Without a thought of eggs and bacon,(Or I am very much mistaken happy).

She turns over each shell,To be sure that all's well.

Looks into the straw,To see there's no flaw.

Goes once round the house, [4],Half afraid of a mouse.

Then sinks calmly to rest,On the top of her nest.

First doubling up each of her legs,Time rolled away, and so did every shell.

"Small by degrees and beautifully less,",As the large mother with a powerful spell [5].

Forced each in turn its contents to express, [6],But ah! "imperfect is expression,".

Some poet said, I don't care who,If you want to know you must go elsewhere.

One fact I can tell, if you're willing to hear,He never attended a Parliament Session.

For I'm certain that if he had ever been there,Full quickly would he have changed his ideas.

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six,Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven,Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!.

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen,Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!".

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one,But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?.

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age,When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.