Literary The Monday Poem: Arcadia Arcadia By H. P. Lovecraft By Head Balledup O give me the life of the village, Uninhibited, free, and sweet; The place where the arts all flourish, Grove Court and Christopher Street. I am sick of the old conventions, And critics who will not praise, So sing ho for the open spaces, And aesthetes with kindly ways. Here every bard is a genius, And artists are Raphaels, And above the roofs of Patchin Place The Muse of Talent dwells. Share this: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to print (Opens in new window) Print Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket Click to share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Like Loading... Related