On scraps of French, got well by heart,
And learned guides, was my reliance;
With light and shade my head I fill,
The style of schools was all my skill.
The painter's name was all my science.
"Thus deeply tutor'd, I return'd,
And o'er my tasteless country mourn'd;
I pitied first, then laugh'd and sneer'd;
Then curs'd the crude unfinish'd tints,
The statues, busto's, vases, prints,