Transpose! hey, presto! it is done!
Eighteen is changed to eighty-one!
How
much such trifling change may mean.
A
woman's lifetime lies between,
With all
she's thought and done and seen.
I Twixt 81
and young 18.
Would
she again the figures change?
I doubt. If
so, her feet might range
Some path
that led not near that friend,
Lover and husband to the end,
Who walked
with her toward set of sun
From-nigh
18 to 81.
Each thinks he would have changed his lot,
But so, believe me, would he
not,
No path like that which winds and bends,
Marked by the milestones of our friends,
O'er arid spaces and o'er green
From 81 back to 18.
What mean the phrases "young and old"?
Just arbitrary terms, I hold.
Dull spirit, unresponsive heart,
No throb for friends, or books, or art.
This is old age wherever seen,
In 81 or in 18.
Old Time
can change the husk alone,
Within
unchanged is she we've known.
Warm heart,
free hand and open mind,
A gracious
mien, a manner kind,
All these
the years have not undone,
Betwixt 18 and 81.
Eighteen years old was once her boast,
Now "eighty-one years young" we toast,
For who shall dare to gauge the soul
By years? 'Tis not in Time's control.
As young in heart is she I ween,
At 81 as at 18.
Ann Virginia Culbertson.
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