The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants --
   At Evening, it is not
 At Morning, in a Truffled Hut
   It stop opon a Spot

As if it tarried always
   And yet it's 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!