  When I think over the subject of painting and art Nothing occurs new that to you I can impart Which might bring reformation in the way These subjects could be treated in our day. The men of ancient times, with keen vision, Bent over canvas and marble with a precision Not equalled or surpassed, marking lines of light And shades, bringing life and nature into full sight, Throwing upon cloth the earth and beclouded sky. With its valleys green and mountains high, Divided into parts with ever-widening and winding streams, Their shores lined with foliage green and rocks in seams; And scraggy trees, as through them the moonbeams Throw their mild and mellow light in shimmering sheen; And fading lines of landscape merging into sky, With its diversified colors upon our watching eye; And from the dead, cold marble stand out The forms of women and men showing their features and clout, Bringing out every expression of muscle and face, Revealing the thoughts and passions in lines they trace Of all the joys of life and the agonizing look, Even to portraying the dying groan one undertook. To show up nature is the whole object of art; To make the scenes natural and life impart. Now our skill in inventions throwing light, We absolutely copy nature and bring it out right. Men with their skill and labor bringing out a view, With tinsel and touch to give it the correct hue, Cannot come up to daguerreotype or kodak In throwing out the front or showing up the back. Thus onward our wheels of progress are rolling, Crushing out the heart of Genius strolling Over lands vying, with his puny hands, With forces of nature invention commands. We should pause sometimes in our rapid flight, Long enough to reflect on the dangers that might Wreck our civilization; children would their lives destroy Were they allowed to handle guns as a toy; So with man in his audacious daring Handling these forces recklessly, caring Little for those who are smashed beneath their grinding, As the end to the glories of art they are finding.
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