Tosh Bosh

From Wikisource
Jump to: navigation, search
Tosh Bosh
by H. P. Lovecraft

Dead Passion's Flame

A Pome by Blank Frailty

Ah, Passion, like a voice - that buds!
With many thorns...that sharply stick:
Recalls to me the longing of our bloods...
And - makes my wearied heart requick! ...

Arcadia

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.