^ ^priS oi ^rbor Wit-^^, 195 



How many friends have faithless prov'd ; to howman}- 



friends have we prov'd untrue ? 

 Have broken bonds made us now more wise, or made 



us more value the trusty few ? 



Those who help'd us up yonder hill, and gave us a 



hand to guide us, when 

 Such as we trusted withdrew the light we thought 



shone but for us till then. 

 Roll up the map of our weary way — take a new sheet 



for the coming year, 

 As before, alas ! both clean and neat, and determine 



a straighter course to steer. 



Then by and bye, if it ever comes, may we not sadly 



have to say, 

 That friends are false, and the map is smudg'd where 



good resolves have given way ; 

 So marr'd and soil'd from the dust and mire of trouble 



and care, of joy and wrong, 

 That the few bright spots on Life's stony track make 



the journey seem more dark and long. 



A SPRIG OF ARBOR YIT^qE. 



SPRIG of Arbor Vit^, torn 

 By loving fingers from a tree 

 A sprig of Arbor Vitae, worn 

 A few short hours by me. 



