| But when of water-colour work I sing |
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| A Sun-kissed field of golden, billowed grain |
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| The New translates the Old: forms fade and fail |
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| What colour-worker shall inform his strain |
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| Lerolle a Flight to Egypt has essay'd |
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| Of drawing crude and colour like the night |
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| Great art achieves the beauty of repose |
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| To draw is not to moralize but see |
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| A Slop-pot painted with artistic grace |
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| Israels caters to the worldly-wise |
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