Slowly it wanders, pauses, creeps,—­
    Anon it sparkles, flashes, and leaps;
    And ever as onward it gleaming goes
    A light on the Bong-tree stems it throws. 
    And those who watch at that midnight hour
    From Hall or Terrace or lofty Tower,
    Cry, as the wild light passes along,—­
       “The Dong! the Dong! 
      The wandering Dong through the forest goes! 
        The Dong! the Dong! 
      The Dong with a luminous Nose!”

        Long years ago
      The Dong was happy and gay,
    Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl
      Who came to those shores one day. 
    For the Jumblies came in a sieve, they did,—­
    Landing at eve near the Zemmery Fidd
        Where the Oblong Oysters grow,
      And the rocks are smooth and gray. 
    And all the woods and the valleys rang
    With the Chorus they daily and nightly sang,—­
        “Far and few, far and few,
          Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
          Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
          And they went to sea in a sieve.”

    Happily, happily passed those days! 
      While the cheerful Jumblies staid;
        They danced in circlets all night long,
        To the plaintive pipe of the lively Dong,
      In moonlight, shine, or shade. 
    For day and night he was always there
    By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair,
    With her sky-blue hands and her sea-green hair;
    Till the morning came of that hateful day
    When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away,
    And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
    Gazing, gazing for evermore,—­
    Ever keeping his weary eyes on
    That pea-green sail on the far horizon,—­
    Singing the Jumbly Chorus still
    As he sate all day on the grassy hill,—­
        “Far and few, far and few,
          Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
          Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
          And they went to sea in a sieve.”

    But when the sun was low in the West,
        The Dong arose and said,—­
    “What little sense I once possessed
        Has quite gone out of my head!”
    And since that day he wanders still
    By lake and forest, marsh and hill,
    Singing, “O somewhere, in valley or plain,
    Might I find my Jumbly Girl again! 
    For ever I’ll seek by lake and shore
    Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!”

        Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,
        Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks;
        And because by night he could not see,
        He gathered the bark of the Twangum Tree
          On the flowery plain that grows. 
          And he wove him a wondrous Nose,—­
        A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!

Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head. 
In a hollow rounded space it ended
With a luminous Lamp within suspended,
All fenced about
With a bandage stout
To prevent the wind from blowing it out;
And with holes all round to send the light
In gleaming rays on the dismal night