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I change, but in dying.

Screen shot 2012-02-29 at AM 01.59.55

“Je ne change, qu’en mourant.”

The Poetical Writings of the Right Rev. George Washington Doane, D.D., LL.D.

In bower and garden, rich and rare,
There’s many a cherished flower,
Whose beauty fades, whose fragrance flits,
Within the flitting hour.
Not so the simple forest leaf,
Unprized, unnoted lying,
The same, thro’ all its little life,
It changes, but in dying.

Be such, and only such, my friend,
Once mine, and mine for ever:
And here’s a hand, to clasp in thine,
That shall desert thee, 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.

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Peggy is an independent blogger from Singapore who has a penchant for impromptu travel plans and good caffe lattes. She is the co-owner of two little cafes, The Tiramisu Hero and Butter My Buns, and hopes to be able to see the world someday; one stop at a time.

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