HONEYSUCKLE. 
133 
As the tortoise turns its head 
Towards its native ocean-bed, 
Howsoever far it be 
From its own beloved sea, 
Tims, dear Albion, evermore 
Do we turn, to seek thy shore ! 
FRAGMENT. 
SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
And well the lonely infant knew 
Recesses where the wallflower grew, 
And honeysuckle loved to crawl 
Up the low crag and ruined wall. 
I deemed such nooks the sweetest shade 
The sun in all his round surveyed, 
And still I thought that shattered tower 
The mightiest work of human power. 
WOODBINE. 
SHAKSPEARE. 
I know a hank whereon the wild thyme blows. 
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows ; 
Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine, 
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine : 
There sleeps Titania, some time of the night, 
Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight: 
And there the snake throws her enameled skin. 
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. 
