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A Wounded Deer Leaps Highest
A wounded deer leaps highest, I've heard the hunter tell; 'Tis but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs: A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings! Mirth is mail of anguish, In which its cautious arm Lest anybody spy the blood And, "you're hurt" exclaim Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886) Related Articles: Beautiful Dreamer Beauty and Love Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her Camomile Tea Clenched Soul Confession Damelus' Song to Diaphenia Farewell to Love  To our knowledge this poem is in the public domain. If you believe we have infringed any copyright laws please contact us and the offending material will be removed immediately.  The poetry on this site is for entertainment purposes only. See Full Disclaimer for more information. |
