The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants - At Evening, it is not - At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop upon a Spot As if it tarried always And yet its whole Career Is shorter than a Snake's Delay And fleeter than a Tare - 'Tis Vegetation's Juggler - The Germ of Alibi - Doth like a Bubble antedate And like a Bubble, hie - I feel as if the Grass was pleased To have it intermit - This surreptitious scion Of Summer's circumspect. Had Nature any supple Face Or could she one contemn - Had Nature an Apostate - That Mushroom - it is Him! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW SAVORING THE PAST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TRIFLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 30 by CLARENCE MAJOR THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE NEGRO DANCERS by CLAUDE MCKAY COLD HANDS WARM HEART by KAREN SWENSON |