We clasp them all in memory, as the vine Whose running stems Intwine The marble shaft, and steal around The lowly stone, the nameless mound; With sorrowing hearts resign Our brothers true and tried, and close our broken line.
"The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Vol. 5 Poems Of The Class Of '29 (1851-1889)"
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
Ever thine As shore as the Vine doth the Stump Intwine thou art my Lump of Sackkerrine Rinaldo Rinaldine the Pirut in Captivity.
"A Child-World"
James Whitcomb Riley
They reach, they strike, they stagger o'er the slain, Deal doubtful blows, or closing clench their man, Intwine their twisting limbs, the gun forgo, Wrench off the bayonet and dirk the foe; Then struggling back, reseize the musket bare, Club the broad breech, and headlong whirl to war Ranks crush on ranks with equal slaughter gored; Warm dripping streams from every lifted sword Stain the thin carnaged corps who still maintain, With mutual shocks, the vengeance of the plain.
"The Columbiad"
Joel Barlow