by Alexander Walls Change: our somehow, sometime, supine constant. A force as old and great as time itself, A force to turn our worn out world, a force Which can ne’er be avoided, nor need be. For though we strive to conserve what matters, Change itself cares not what’s left in tatters. The tree which […]
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Poetry and Photography by Christopher Hill I wonder about the tree in third quad. I wonder how many students have seen it grow. How many fresh-from-school students. How many just-back-from-Chequers students. How many off-to-first-lecture students. How many starting-to-miss-home students. How many new-term-new-me students. How many just-five-more-minutes students. How many rushing-off-to-lecture students. How many swatting-for-next-collections students. […]
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The Poor Print 