VIOLA INNOMINATA 



As I was walking through a field, - 

 The habitat was wet , - 

 I chanced to see a winsome thing, 

 The modest violet. 



She looked familiar, once I knew 



Her given name,- I think. 



But now we know these plants seem named 



By influence of drink. 



Her color was what poets call, 

 "A bit of Heaven's own blue. 11 - 

 But this is very, very wrong, 

 As Mathews shows to you. 



"Dear flower," I said, "I love you well, 

 Yourself pray introduce." 

 She bowed her head, and murmured low, 

 "It would not be much use. 



A man who lives up in Vermont, 

 'Freakish' calls me, and 'cross', 

 And says no one respectable 

 Can guess what is my source. 



A nameless nothing sure am I; 

 Forget your love for me 

 Until I find out who I am 

 In plant society." 



I could not comfort her, alas, 



For specialistic ways 



Must hurt the feelings of the plants 



In these intensive days. 



I had to leave her to her grief, 

 For versed not am I 



In dead names that are brought to life, 

 And living names that die. 



No comfort lies in synonyms, - 

 But how nice it would be 

 If she could, have the novum nom 

 Of V. Brainerdii. 



Read at the Twentieth Anniversary Dinner of 

 the New England Botanical Club, February 4, 1916. 



