DURAND.
 
        Upon his canvas Nature starts to life,
            Clear waters flow, majestic trees arise, --
        The earth and air with beauty's shapes are rife,
            And over all there bend his glorious skies.
 
        Yes, this is Nature -- living, breathing, warm,
            Ere yet her face the blight and storm have crossed;
        Yes, this is Nature, in that radiant form
            She wore of old, ere Paradise was lost.