112 EETooIitinc, or it^oiursuclfele. 
Sister, sister, what dost thou twine ? 
I am weaving a wreath of the wild Woodbine ; 
I have streaked it without like the sunset hue, 
And silvered it white with the morning dew: 
And there is not a perfume which on the breeze blows 
From the lips of the Pink or the mouth of the Rose, 
That's sweeter than mine — that's sweeter than mine : 
I have mingled them all in my wild Woodbine. 
Miller. 
A Honeysuckle, on the sunny side, ' 
Hung round the lattices its fragrant trumpets. 
Mias Landon. 
Ah ! could you look into my heart, 
And watch your image there ! 
You would own the sunny loveliness 
Affection makes it wear. 
Mrs. Osgood. 
The pensive soul with ardent thirsting turns 
To heaven and earth to seek its fill of love. 
MacKellar. 
Oh ! there is one affection which no stain 
Of earth can ever dai'ken ; — when two find, 
The softer and the manlier, that a chain 
Of kindred taste has fastened mind to mind. 
'Tis an attraction from all sense refined ; 
The good can only know it ; 'tis not blind. 
As love is unto baseness ; its desire 
Is but with hands entwined to lift our being higher. 
Fercival. 
