Tale of an ex-Static Water Tank

Beside the Camera’s bulk rotund
The impassioned prophet strode,
Dodging the bicycles and cars
That by him ever flowed.

‘Attend!’ he cried, ‘Ye passers-by
Capped, coated, scarved or gowned,
While I upon this Water Tank
A parable expound!

See how this hammer pounds it down
To dust! By which I prove
That block of concrete won’t stand up
To metal on the move.

All its brave water now is drained
To some sad store lymphatic.
It stood and stood and stood and stood-
It was, in fact, too static.

This rule, in Oxford’s bracing air
Holds now, and evermore –
Tis not enough to stand and wait,
Change, movement, is the law.’

He stopped; and, illustrating thus
His thesis to the last,
Was wiped up by a car that came
Up Catte Street, rather fast.

Oxford satires