Classic Poem

The dainty Degas has a master's claim,
Tho' Ruskinites aver his art lacks ‘aim’
And has no ‘moral’ lesson to convey
To fend the public virtue from decay;
Forgetting that the work of men of paint
Is not to aid the Devil or the Saint;
But to achieve the surface side of things
And tell how living art to Beauty clings.
Degas paints ballet-girls of grouping strange,
And Paris washer-women at close range,
With such effects of decorative aim
As no Ruskinian twaddle need explain.
He has that perfect sureness of the hand,
Serene, victorious and divinely bland.