Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1298 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! Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:46 PM | Viewed: 8913 times
A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.
ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!
For more information...
![[home]](http://plagiarist.com/images/home.gif)
Emily Dickinson
Print
Comments
