118 
THE SWEET BAY. 
ILLUSTRATION OE THE SENTIMENT. 
In bower and garden rich and rare. 
There’s many a cherish’d flower, 
Whose heauty fades, whose fragrance flits 
Within the flitting hour; 
Not so the simple forest leaf, 
Unprized, unnoticed, lying 
The same through all its little life, 
It changes hut in dying. 
Be such, and only such, my friends. 
Once mine, and mine for ever ■, 
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 hut in dying. 
Doane. 
