What, know you not, old man (quoth he) Your hair is white, your face is wise That Love must kiss that Mortals eyes Who hopes to see fair Arcady? No gold can buy you entrance there; But beggared Love may go all bare No wisdom won with weariness; But love goes in with Follys dress No fame that wit could ever win; But only Love may lead Love in. To Arcady, to Arcady. H. C. BunnerThe Way to Arcady.
Et in Arcadia ego. I too was in Arcadia. Bartolomeo Schidoni on a painting in the Schiarra-Colonna, Rome. Nicholas Poussin later used same on a painting in the Louvre. On his monument, San Lorenzo, Rome. Wieland notes same in Pervomte, Ideen & Erinerung. Herder, Angedenken an Neapel. Inscription on painting by Joshua Reynolds. Portrait of Hariot Fawkener, Mrs. Bouverie and Mrs. Crewe.
Alas! the road to Anywhere is pitfailed with disaster; Theres hunger, want, and weariness, yet O we loved it so! As on we tramped exultantly, and no man was our master, And no man guessed what dreams were ours, as, swinging heel and toe, We tramped the road to Anywhere, the magic road to Anywhere, The tragic road to Anywhere, such dear, dim years ago. Robert W. ServiceThe Tramps.
Tamen cantabitis, Arcades inquit montibus Hæc vestris: soli cantare periti Arcades. O mihi tum quam molliter ossa quiescant, Vestra meos olim si fistula dicat amores. Arcadians skilled in song will sing my woes upon the hills. Softly shall my bones repose, if you in future sing my loves upon your pipe. VergilEclogues. X. 31.