MidJourney groks Lewis Carroll

/imagine

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

     Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves, 

    And the mome raths outgrabe.

 /imagine 

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun 

      The frumious Bandersnatch!”

 

/imagine

He took his vorpal sword in hand;

     Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree 

     And stood awhile in thought.

 

 

 /imagine 

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, 

      And burbled as it came! 

 

 /imagine 

One, two! One, two! And through and through
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
      He went galumphing back. 

 

/imagine

 “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
      He chortled in his joy. 

/imagine

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.