Poems with rhymes of entwine

Your hand in mine,
A hold on the heart
Forever they entwine.

Love and harmony combine,
And round our souls entwine

Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

From storms a shelter, give the drooping vine
Something round which its tendrils may entwine,

Little hands and fingers fine,
And she holds me tight, so tight;
While her eager arms entwine

I looked on thy furniture so fine,
And made it fine to me:
Thy glorious household-stuff did me entwine,

A form, as any taper, fine ;
A head like half-pint bason ;
Where golden cords, and bands entwine,

I hoped that thy days would be longer than mine;
That thy dark‑waving branches would flourish around,
And ivy thy trunk with its mantle entwine.

How would his arms thy neck entwine,
His fond lips press thy brow!
My son! oh, call these orphans thine–

Through her closed lips that cling to mine,
Her hands that hold me and entwine,

In fresh myrtle my blade I'll entwine,
Like Harmodious, the gallant and good,
When he made at the tutelar shrine

Tho' never shall entwine
Loving arms around mine

THOU! who sleep'st where hazle-bands entwine
The vernal grass, with paler violets drest;
I would, sweet maid! thy humble bed were mine,

You are a full-spread fair-set Vine,
And can with tendrils love entwine;

These locks, which fondly thus entwine,
In firmer chains our hearts confine

Violets and leaves of vine,
Into a frail, fair wreath
We gather and entwine:

Be thou mine as I am thine,
As the vine's ensigns entwine

That the earliest, the loveliest of flowers I'd entwine,
Though with millions of blood-reeking victims 'twas gory,
Though the tears of the widow polluted its shrine,

I'll with the lucid boughts entwine
A weeping Wreath, which round my Head
Shall by the waning Cresent shine,

Sweet, sweet unborn child of mine!
How thy life would tenderly
Round thy mother's life entwine—