A few straggling vines against the porch, and a sickly cluster or two of blossoms-those were the sweet peas, surely.
"Lonesome Land"
B. M. Bower
The latter was a heavenly place shut in by vines heavy with the odour of honeysuckle.
"I Walked in Arden"
Jack Crawford
Tawny golden-rod and purple asters stuck their tops through the fence rails, and many kinds of creeping vines, some already scarlet and yellow, helped bind the angles together.
"I Walked in Arden"
Jack Crawford