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:TwitterFacebookPrintLinkedInRedditTumblrPinterestPocketTelegramWhatsAppSkypeEmailLike this:Like Loading... Related