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28 I CHANGE BUT IN DYING. 
BAY LEAF. 
Laurus, 
Language I CHANGE BUT IN DYING. 
In bower and garden rich and rare 
There's many a cherished flower, 
JVhose beauty fades, whose fragrance dies 
Within the flitting hour. 
Not so the simple forest leaf. 
Unprized, unnoticed, lying : 
The same through all its little life, 
It changes but in dying. 
Be such, and only such, my friends ; 
Once mine, and mine forever ; 
And here's a hand to clasp in theirs, 
That shall desert them never. 
And thou be such, my gentle love. 
Time, chance, the world defying ; 
And take 'tis all I have a heart 
That changes but in dying. 
G. W. DOANK. 
Farewell ! there's but one pang in death. 
One only leaving thee ! 
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