Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

A Wounded Deer&Mdash;Leaps Highest - Poem by Emily Dickinson

165

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 the Mail of Anguish
In which it Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "you're hurt" exclaim!


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Read poems about / on: death, spring



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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