University of Virginia Library

Scene IV.

same.
Aged Lady.
Come, let us camp around the family hearth,
And visit, as in those sun-gilded years,
When we were happiest; let once more our eyes
The watch-fires of old memories kindle bright;
Let's barter news for news, and thoughts for thoughts,
Play toss-ball with the old love-cushioned jokes,
And set the air to singing with our laughs.
And yet 'twould seem, oh, sweethearts of my prime,
As if, in these long, slow, oft-counted years,
You must have larger, stronger, older grown.
But here you meet me, young and blooming still,
Just as you seemed in our best, happiest days.
A miracle!

Husband.
All things are “miracles,”
Whether in earth or Heaven, till we have found
Their law and reason. Early here we learn
That wishes oft are their accomplishment.

Aged Lady.
And yet I grieve that you, being all so young,
Must meet the mother, crookéd, bent, and worn,
And not so comely as she was of old;
For, trust me, I was not so hideous then,
And had, I fear, some sinful worldly pride.

[All the others laugh merrily.
Husband.
There was a picture in our dear old house,
That I sometimes have seen you glance upon;
View it once more for me, and tell me true
If 'tis as then. Look in yon gilded frame.

[Aged Lady turns, and gazes, where he points, into a mirror. She sees herself reflected as a beautiful middle-aged woman. All laugh, pettingly, at her surprise.
Husband.
The earthly count of years counts not in Heaven;
All are as one in everlasting prime,
Free from youth's follies and the bars of age;
Though each may change appearance as he likes,
And as shall suit his Heaven-born purposes—
From old to young, or young to old. The soul
Can often change the body's looks on earth;
A million times as much the spirit-form!