Classic Poem

A pastel portrait by James Guthrie wrought
Is with suave and finished beauty fraught,
That proves he's mastered, tho' the Stipplers scoff,
The art, so little known, of Leaving Off.
A picture is not finished till it shows
No trace of industry to mar repose.

Where are the other Scots whose rounded grace
Can add a charm to any time or place?
Melville and Walton, Henry and Hornel,
Crawhall and Pryde, lovers of field and fell;
And Stevenson, the St. John of them all,
Whose wit and worth push painting to the wall!
No group 's more free of unpictorial claim —
Pictorial magic is its only aim.
The men are young, the best is yet to be,
What is to come not even they foresee.
'T is where a new convention may arise
To gladden more than Caledonian eyes;
Where Robert Burns first sang the Song of Man,
And rose above the parish and the clan.