Shortly after he had settled at Gray's Ferry, Wilson's susceptible nature was touched by another romance, which was again unfortunate for the poet and dreamer, but was probably the making of the ornithologist. Bartram's Botanic Gardens, on the outskirts of Philadelphia, had long been famous for their large and choice collection of native plants, gathered by the indefatigable zeal of their worthy founder, John Bartram, Quaker philosopher, traveler, botanist, agriculturalist and nurseryman; but the fairest flower in the whole collection at that time is said to have been Miss Anne Bartram, daughter of John the younger, niece of William, who then superintended the "Kingsess Gardens," granddaughter of the founder, and heiress to the estate. To this Quaker maid Wilson addressed a number of his poems, and he interested her in the drawing of birds; on March 29, 1804, he wrote to her uncle: "I send a small scroll of drawing papers for Miss Nancy. She will oblige me by accepting it." This little incident would show that Wilson was no stranger to the use of good drawing materials, however frugal his habits in this respect may have been. The young lady is said to have been not indifferent to her poet lover, and some of her family were friendly; the father, however, had no notion of bestowing his daughter's hand upon a poor schoolmaster, and for the third time Wilson's dreams of domestic bliss were shattered. Such experiences no doubt tended to chasten the sensitive spirit of this real genius, whose whole life seemed to have been a continuous and losing struggle, while he felt within him an inspiration and a power that had failed to find adequate expression in labor at the loom, in verse, or in the hated vocation of teaching rough country schools at starvation wages. Though depressed by his misadventures in love, Wilson does not seem to have been embittered, and by way of diversion, he set out in the autumn of 1804, on a long walking tour from Philadelphia to Niagara Falls and back; in the following winter the experiences of this journey were embodied in a descriptive poem of 2,018 lines which he called "The Foresters," an effort which would have been less prosaic if frankly expressed in prose. Wilson's friendship for the Bartrams continued under the changed conditions, and he was invited to make his home under their hospitable roof. He was now free to devote himself heart and soul to birds and to birds alone.