Scottish Poetry Selection
- The Botanist

As a lover of nature himself, Walter Wingate would appreciate the enthusiasm of someone who was dedicated to botany - while earning his living as a grocer.


               The Botanist

Twa men he was, the basket-burdened wives,
   Who by his counter cheapened eggs and teas,
Knew but the more prosaic of his lives -
   A quiet, kindly man that kept good cheese.

But in his sanctum - were you privileged -
   You found him garrulous with winter tales
Of summer triumphs: learned grew his air,
   And microscope and slide forgot the scales.

Pleasant it was to see him flush and thrill
   With bright-eyed memories, jubilant as a boy,
Of rove Menziesia on a Perthshire hill,
   Like old Ulysses in the vein of Troy,

Now peace be with him! Many such there be,
   Of unsuspected love, who find it fame
If they but earn the same reward as he,
   That one poor moss perpetuates his name.

Return to the Index of Walter Wingate Poems or the General Index of Scottish Poetry



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