| the days of port and peace are gone, I am a modern Oxford Don |
[Mar. 8th, 2008|12:06 pm] |
The days of port and peace are gone,
I am a modern Oxford Don ;
No more I haunt the candled gloom,
The cosy chairs of common room
Each day the peal of ..
Tradition's gathering mist dispels :
Our life's more complex daily grown,
And no man calls his soul his own.
Myself, a man of modest mark,
Make my snug nest beyond the Park ;
Pay twice the rent my means afford,
Spread the too hospitable board ;
Each new device earns hearty greeting : I
|
|
|
