|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
| And stroke with listless hand|
The woodbine through the window, till at last
I came to do it with a sort of love.
E. B. BrowningAurora Leigh. Bk. I.
|A filbert-hedge with wild-briar overtwined,|
And clumps of woodbine taking the soft wind
Upon their summer thrones.
KeatsI Stood Tiptoe Upon a Little Hill.
|And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,|
And the musk of the rose is blown.
TennysonMaud. Pt. XXII. St. I.