But how you ever took the notion
To paint a picture of the sea
Before you ever saw the ocean,
Is something that surprises me.

I'm glad you have the skill to paint,
And pluck to labor and to wait;
And too much sense to pine and faint,
Because the world don't call you great.

True greatness is achieved by toil,
And labor for the public good,
'Tis labor breaks the barren soil,
And makes it yield our daily food.

Then cultivate your talents rare,
And study nature's lovely face,
And copy every tint with care;
Your work will then have life and grace.

When fame and fortune you attain,
And more than royal sway is sure,
'Twill be the majesty of brain,
A majesty that must endure,

Till thrones of kings and queens shall tumble,
And monuments of stone and brass,
Shall into shapeless ruin crumble,
And blow away like withered grass.