by Leonard Shaw

Alas! You know only the simple ways:
For such a man the days fly and flitter
From one week to the next,
Till the term, the year, the life is o’er.

Upon a passing fancy in the street or in a carriage,
One can only wonder surely when the next may come to be.
And yet the answer, taunting, playful even, dangling from a string,
Sits like ripe grapes above our head.

As long as I am here among you,
I could never tell,
What lies beyond is not yet for our eyes.
And yet, despite such, I have my own;
My paradise, dear friend, is not for yours.

The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford, written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff. New issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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