132 
FLORAL POESY. 
of East and West cannot rival its blossoms in our esti¬ 
mation. Often in Eastern lands have we longed for 
the honeysuckle lanes of England. It grows (for the 
benefit of the wayfarer) in the hedgerow : it clasps the 
porch and thatch of the poor man's cottage : it wafts 
soothing perfume to the lover. 
THE HONEYSUCKLE. 
THE COUNTESS OP BLESSINGTON. 
See the Honeysuckle twine 
Eound this casement :—’tis a shrine 
Where the heart doth incense give. 
And the poor affections live 
In the mother’s gentle breast 
By her smiling infant pressed. 
Blessed shrine ! dear, blissful home ! 
Source whence happiness doth come ! 
Bound by the cheerful hearth we meet 
All things beauteous—all things sweet— 
Every solace of man’s life, 
Mother—daughter—sister—wife ! 
England, Isle of free and brave, 
Circled by the Atlantic wave ! 
Though we seek the fairest land 
That the south wind ever fanned. 
Yet we cannot hope to see 
Homes so holy as in thee. 
