Lewis Carroll

January 27, 1832- January 14, 1898
Daresbury, United Kingdom-Guildford, United Kingdom

Lewis Carroll is the pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgeson. He was the son of a clergyman, and the third child born to a family of eleven children. At an early age, he entertained himself and his family by performing magic tricks and marionette shows, and by writing poetry for his homemade newspapers. He entered Rugby School in 1846 and graduated from Christ Church College in 1854. He was also ordained as a deacon, but never preached. He died on January 14 1898.

Carroll is well-known for his novel Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in 1865, followed by Through the Looking Glass in 1872. He also wrote two famous poems,"The Hunting of the Shark" and "Jabberwocky." He was also a writer, mathematician, Anglican cleric, photographer, and an artist. He wrote more than 28 poems and has also written short stories. The investigation of his life are in many parts of the world, including the United Kingdom, Japan, the U.S. and New Zealand.

Sample Poem:

Little Birds

Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell:
Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters -
I've a Tale to tell.

Little Birds are feeding
Justices with jam,
Rich in frizzled ham:
Rich, I say, in oysters
Haunting shady cloisters -
That is what I am.

Little Birds are teaching
Tigresses to smile,
Innocent of guile:
Smile, I say, not smirkle -
Mouth a semicircle,
That's the proper style!

Little Birds are sleeping
All among the pins,
Where the loser wins:
Where, I say, he sneezes
When and how he pleases -
So the Tale begins.

Little Birds are writing
Interesting books,
To be read by cooks:
Read, I say, not roasted -
Letterpress, when toasted,
Loses its good looks.

Little Birds are playing
Bagpipes on the shore,
Where the tourists snore:
"Thanks!" they cry. "'Tis thrilling!
Take, oh take this shilling!
Let us have no more!"

Little Birds are bathing
Crocodiles in cream,
Like a happy dream:
Like, but not so lasting -
Crocodiles, when fasting,
Are not all they seem!

Little Birds are choking
Baronets with bun,
Taught to fire a gun:
Taught, I say, to splinter
Salmon in the winter -
Merely for the fun.

Little Birds are hiding
Crimes in carpet-bags,
Blessed by happy stags:
Blessed, I say, though beaten -
Since our friends are eaten
When the memory flags.

Little Birds are tasting
Gratitude and gold,
Pale with sudden cold:
Pale, I say, and wrinkled -
When the bells have tinkled,
And the Tale is told.