But, perhaps, without tracing at all, you may choose
To indulge in some little extempore views,
  Like the older artistical people;
For example, a Corydon playing his pipe,
In a Low Country marsh, with a Cow, after Cuyp,
  And a Goat skipping over a steeple.

A wild Deer at a rivulet taking a sup,
With a couple of Pillars put in to fill up,
  Like the columns of certain diurnals;
Or a very brisk sea, in a very stiff gale,
And a very Dutch boat, with a very big sail—­
  Or a bevy of Retzsch Infernals.

Architectural study—­or rich Arabesque—­
Allegorical dream—­or a view picturesque,
  Near to Naples, or Venice, or Florence;
Or “as harmless as lambs and as gentle as doves,”
A sweet family cluster of plump little Loves,
  Like the Children by Reynolds or Lawrence.

But whatever the subject, your exquisite taste
Will ensure a design very charming and chaste,
  Like yourself, full of nature and beauty—­
Yet besides the good points you already reveal,
You will need a few others—­of well-temper’d steel,
  And especially form’d for the duty.

For suppose that the tool be imperfectly set,
Over many weak lengths in your line you will fret,
  Like a pupil of Walton and Cotton,
Who remains by the brink of the water, agape,
While the jack, trout, or barbel effects its escape
  Thro’ the gut or silk line being rotten.

Therefore, let the steel point be set truly and round,
That the finest of strokes may be even and sound,
  Flowing glibly where fancy would lead ’em. 
But alas! for the needle that fetters the hand,
And forbids even sketches of Liberty’s land
  To be drawn with the requisite freedom!

Oh! the botches I’ve seen by a tool of the sort,
Rather hitching than etching, and making, in short,
  Such stiff, crabbed, and angular scratches,
That the figures seem’d statues or mummies from tombs,
While the trees were as rigid as bundles of brooms,
  And the herbage like bunches of matches!

The stiff clouds as if carefully iron’d and starch’d,
While a cast-iron bridge, meant for wooden, o’er-arch’d
  Something more like a road than a river. 
Prythee, who in such characteristics could see
Any trace of the beautiful land of the free—­
  The Free-Mason—­Free-Trader—­Free-Liver!

But prepared by a hand that is skilful and nice,
The fine point glides along like a skate on the ice,
  At the will of the Gentle Designer,
Who impelling the needle just presses so much,
That each line of her labor the copper may touch,
  As if done by a penny-a-liner.

And behold! how the fast-growing images gleam! 
Like the sparkles of gold in a sunshiny stream,
  Till perplex’d by the glittering issue,
You repine for a light of a tenderer kind—­
And in choosing a substance for making a blind,
  Do not sneeze at the paper call’d tissue.