134 SUMMER IN A BOG. 



Earliest among the pioneers, 

 Unchecked by solitude or fears 

 Of deadly, lurking, savage foe, 

 Into these wilds devoutly go 

 And on this wealth of nature pore 

 "With zeal of scientific lore. 



Along Scioto's plains, I wist, 



Ohio's later botanist 



Has crowned his wanderings aestival, 



His part in nature's festival 



By blending in discovery's thought 



His name with Helianthus wrought. 



Oft as the boscage wild I scour 

 I long to hap upon some flower 

 By page botanical unkenned. 

 Whereto my name I may append, 

 As here along the summer lea 

 I find the Sullivantii,* 

 Or that giganteum's form obscure 

 Which Eellermanii shall endure. 

 But, ah! no flower unknown thus far 

 Has crowned my vision like a star. 

 Yet happy fate it were for me 

 To rear some flower of Poesy. 



Muse, to whom the power belongs, 

 Inspirer of our sylvan songs. 

 Grant to this verse one touch divine 

 To link those gracious names with mine! 

 August 21, 1899. 



•Torre^ and Grey. 



