You sing in fluting verse more sweet
   Than tender evensong of birds,
And sigh o'er melodies too fleet
   And thoughts too subtle strange for words.
Ay, carve in gold with all the strong,
   Fair daintiness and pride of art;
But better have you done with song
   Deep carven in the human heart.

"E.D."
The Bulletin, 27 August 1898, p15