Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/156

 144                      POEMS.

XXV. THE MUSHROOM.

T HE mushroom is the elf of plants, At evening it is not; At morning in a truffled hut It stops 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.

'T is vegetation's juggler, The germ of alibi; Doth like a bubble antedate, And like a bubble hie.