
The Poetry of Flowers. 143 

Once I welcome you more, in life’s passionless stage, 
With the visions of youth to revisit my age. 
And I wish you to grow on my tomb. 

THE HONEYSUCKLE. 
i BY THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON. 
i SEE the Honeysuckle twine 
Round this casement :—'tis a shrine 
Where the heart doth incense give, 
And the pure affections live 
ns, In the mother’s gentle breast 
By her smiling infant pressed. 
te, 
4 Blesséd shrine! dear, blissful home! 
Source whence happiness doth come! 
Round by the cheerful hearth we meet 
All things beauteous—all things sweet— 
e: Every solace of man’s life, 
Mother—daughter—sister—wife. 
‘a 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. 
As the tortoise turns its head 
‘Towards its native ocean-bed, 
Howsoever far it be 
, From its own belovéd sea, 
Thus, dear Albion, evermore 
Do we turn to seek thy shore ! 



