Gold And Silver Poem by Jan Struther

Like children on Tom Tiddler's Ground
We venture into love's domain;
We gather treasures all around
And turn to bear them home again.
Then old Tom Tiddler wheels about
With menacing, malicious grin;
And some fly empty-handed out
And some he takes and prisons in.
But we who 'scape, nor loose our hold,
Humbly we few shall sing love's praises.
Who says our silver and our gold
Are nought but buttercups and daisies?