To Venetian Artists

That God is Colouring Newton does shew,
And the devil is a black outline, all of us know.
Perhaps this little Fable may make us merry:
A dog went over the water without a wherry;
A bone which he had stolen he had in his mouth;
He cared not whether the wind was north or south.
As he swam he saw the reflection of the bone.
'This is quite Perfection — one Generalizing Tone!
Outline! There's no outline, there's no such thing:
All is Chiaroscuro, Poco-Pen — it's all Colouring!'
Snap, snap! He has lost shadow and substance too.
He had them both before. 'Now how do ye do?'
'A great deal better than I was before:
Those who taste colouring love it more and more.'