[BNP/E3, 77 – 86-87]

An Idyll of To‑Day

___

She

If every tear of mine were gold

     And every sigh a tear,

Wouldst thou not then with kisses bold

     Entrap them falling clear?

If at each word I spoke of love

     Pearls rained from out the air,

How pleasant would to thee then prove

     To hear me speak for e'er!

He.

If at each look of love I cast

     A cheque were signed and made,

If each tear's ending were the last

     Touch of received and paid;

If each soft glance were a banknote

     And the same every sigh,

Wouldst thou not have me learn by rote

        Love's shows of misery?

Both

What can we do? What are we both

     But beings of our time?

[87^r]

An Idyll of To-Day (2).

Gold is the meat of living's broth,

     The vowel of the rhyme.

Even a token sad and old.

     A certain price will woo.

Our love would but be true as gold

     If we were gold all through.

Alexander Search.

Durban, 1905.