T INE, vine and eglantine, 
Clasp her window, trail and twine 1 
Rose, rose and clematis, 
Trail and twine, and clasp and kiss, 
Kiss, kiss ; and make her a bower 
All of flowers, and drop me a flower. 
Drop me a flower. 
Tennyson, 
By grassy slopes 
Hangeth the vine her leafy ropes; 
Wild Proteus she o’the wanton wood, 
That ever shifleth her merry mood, 
And, aye in luxury of change, 
Loveth to revel, and dance, and range, 
In leaves not hers, she fleeteth through. 
Hiding her large grape-bunches blue. 
Robert , L ord Lyi 
