Dancing Dust
	Poems by Mollie Caird (1922-2000)
	The modern  undergraduate
Home Alphabetic index of poems Thematic index of poems Biography Gallery Contact and links	My friend preferred a College room with panels linenfold, But his feet are red with chilblains and he's always got a cold; Now, I  imbibed good sense with mothers milk and Doctor Spock, And I chose a modern study in the steel and concrete block. O tempora, O mores! My friend has death watch beetle, which isn't very nice, And his beams are full of woodworm and his wainscots full of mice, And saints and worthies lived there once — my friend can name a host; But my  clean room is undisturbed by either beast or ghost. O tempora, O mores! My friend's disgusted with me — he says I ought to feel That Oxford has an ethos unlike Manchester or Keele; But ethos doesn't keep out draughts, and, frankly, while I'm here, I'll enjoy my Oxford ethos in a redbrick atmosphere. O tempora, O mores! So I live in the present and my friend lives in the past, And we've both a sneaking feeling even that's too good to last: If overcrowding gets much worse we'll all be in pre-fabs — But those at least are likely to be lovlier than the labs. O tempora, O mores! Oxford Times (undated)